The Mafia Wants You!
by SwordsMagician
Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos. WIP
1. Of Mafia Men

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

* * *

_Tsuna was sitting at his desk, idly fiddling around with various wire and cables, a pair of pliers and an assortment of gears. Pieces of paper with diagrams and scribbled notes were scattered around him like leaves from the neighbours' garden. _

_Nana poked her head around his bedroom door. _

_"Tsu-chan," she called, "your father's still working abroad at the oil fields, and he won't make it home today. It'll just you and me tonight, so was there anything special you wanted for dinner?" _

_Oil fields. What a code word for working in organised crime. _

_"Anything's fine," he said absent-mindedly, trying to figure out which wire – red or blue? – would bring out the desired effect. _

_"Ok!," his mother said cheerily, before asking, "By the way, did anything interesting happen at school today?" _

_At lunchtime an irate Mafioso I've never seen before tried to kidnap me. _

_"A weirdo offered me candy. I ran and told the teacher." And then the stranger was arrested. _

_Nana raised a hand to her mouth in shock. "I heard about that. That's my boy - don't take anything offered by strangers. Should I call Iemitsu?" _

_"Nah, it's not very important," Tsuna connected the blue wire, and was rewarded with a brief spark of light._

_"Alright then. I'll just make some stir fry. Dinner will be in half an hour!" _

_"'Kay," he muttered back. The sound of footsteps receded as he joined the object in his hands together, the sphere emitting a dull blue glow. Tsuna patted it contentedly, then placed it in his desk draw, along with a bag of marbles, some lengths of string, a pen with a built in laser and a couple of juvenile smoke bombs. If another guy tried to abduct him, he may have to resort to something new. _

_The man might be prepared for capsicum spray next time. _

_He then trudged over to his bookcase and started feeling around with small hands. There was a hidden cavity in the back that he had high hopes for, but he'd have to renovate it himself, and figure out how to fit a flat computer screen and all the cables needed through the back… _

_Maybe when his mother left for her weekend shopping trip. It would give him a couple of hours, and he could get the welder and miniature saw out. Perhaps he should also soundproof his room first, just in case, so he didn't disturb the neighbours. _

_A small part of his mind told him that if his father wasn't away from home all the time, he wouldn't be able to get away with a lot of the things he got caught up in. Another part of his mind rationalised that if his father wasn't the outside Advisor to a Mafia family, he wouldn't have inherited any genetic makeup predisposed to illegal activity. Or something. _

_He took the precaution of burying information on the Vongola he had dug up from their files and the Internet on the lower corner of his bookshelf, disguised as normal children's books. He would read through them again until he made sure the information was memorised, then burn all the evidence. _

_At least he wasn't being watched by Vongola intelligence, or tailed by bodyguards. Otherwise they would have intervened by now, and he would know they were there. _

Tsuna was five years old when his mind understood the concept that his father couldn't always be there. No matter the good intentions, the Family had to come first. Tsuna wasn't bitter about it. He wasn't angry or angst-ridden either. No, Tsuna was just resigned to the fact that Sawada Iemitsu had more important, pressing matters like talks with Chinese Triad gangs instead of his only son back in Japan.

And hey, nobody had successfully killed him yet, so it could be worse. Tsuna's strife stemmed from being able to sense trouble, but still managing to get caught up in it, one way or another.

He wondered if it was a hereditary trait.

**

* * *

**

The Mafia Wants You!

By swordsmagician

Target 001: Of Mafia Men

_Sicily, Italy_

It's the clichéd shady bar setting. The place is dim, quiet, and cigarette smoke pervades the air. The two men at the bar nursing drinks don't even bother turning around.

"Reborn."

"Called out by the Old Man again?"

"The popular ones have it tough. Is it Rome this time? Venice?"

As was the life of the notorious mafia hitman. Sure, he was always busy, but life was never boring, and his skills were needed once again. Reborn never thought that he'd end up going into teaching, but his merciless training style had already worked in turning out one exceptional Mafia boss.

And Reborn was not one to tolerate failure.

"It's Japan."

Intakes of breath from the two men, who rotate sharply. "Japan! The Old Man finally decided?"

"This one will probably be a long journey," Reborn said, almost to himself, before pwning some no name mafioso.

Chuck Norris had nothing on him.

* * *

_Namimori, Japan_

The sun was just peeking over the horizon. Birds were twittering. A bus pulled up along the curb, leaving a diminutive character to pace a short distance to a typical suburban house. A plain piece of paper slid gently into the mail box, which had "Sawada" etched onto the nameplate.

Meanwhile, pay close attention to the interior of the house, more specifically, the bedroom on the second floor. It is, for all purposes, the room of an ordinary teenage boy. There are papers scattered haphazardly across the desk as usual. Clothing is in the wardrobe, rightfully, except for the school uniform casually laid out on a chair. The bed is unmade, as if its occupant has already woken to deal with more pressing matters than catching up on sleep. The bookshelf is cluttered with reading materials and miscellaneous items. There is a TV and game control in the corner. More papers and books litter the ground. In one corner you can barely see the floor.

The entire place harbours a feeling of chaos, but it is one of organised chaos, to its occupant at least. And nothing should be taken at face value anyway.

Let's leave the woman who has woken to collect the newspaper and daily mail, when she happens to come across a flier of dubious origins. What is a great deal more important is the boy in the middle of a conversation in that very room.

"_You better watch yourself. There's no shortage of rumours about this guy, and if he's really coming to Japan, your worst fears have been realised._"

The brown haired boy sighed, fiddling with the phone in his hand. "Not to mention, my senses were prickling since yesterday. That's never a good sign. Someone's got to take the fall for this…"

"_And guess who that will be? Anyway, if you're really dealing with that sadist, it was nice knowing you._"

Sawada Tsunayoshi chuckled. "I'm hoping it's just a coincidence, maybe another job that has nothing to do with me whatsoever, but constant vigilance and all that, right? I may not be able to keep regular contact, but say hi to everyone for me, will you?"

"_Will do!_"

Tsuna ended the call and resisted the urge to bash his head against the wall.

There was a welcome interruption of "Tsu-chan!" as he shoved an errant text together with the rest of his schoolbooks. "I'm coming!" Swinging the bag over his shoulder, Tsuna ambled downstairs to where his mother's face was smiling sweetly from the kitchen.

"Morning." He felt that this day wasn't going to be good, by all accounts.

"Good morning!" his mother fairly chirped. "And right on time! That's great; you don't want to be late for school now!"

"Yeah," Tsuna sighed while snagging a piece of toast and chomping on it half-heartedly.

It didn't start off particularly promising, but maybe fortune would smile down on him and today will be somewhat normal. No unexpected calls at three in the morning about mafia hitmen, no assassins trying to kill him (or entice him to join their organisations), no sudden pleas for help from a bunch of conmen pulling off a heist that could use a kid in the ruse…

"By the way, there was an interesting flier in the mailbox." Nana waved a piece of paper. "Starting today, a home tutor will be coming."

…

Wait, _what?_

"I gave them a call immediately!"

Oh hell. That was probably when Tsuna was talking on his phone. _Why didn't I tap the phone lines or jam them when I had the chance?_ he thought desperately.

Nana turned over the flier and read aloud. "I will raise your child to become the leader of the next generation. I am young and good looking." (Tsuna sweatdropped). As long as they have a place to sleep, and a meal, they'll teach you twenty-four hours for free!"

Tsuna's eyebrow couldn't help twitching at his mother's words and the suspiciously timed flier. _I must have been naïvely hopeful to think this was all one big coincidence, or that I'd have more time to work with._

"Mum, it's probably a scam! I'm sure the next generation will do great without me leading them anyway. I mean, the previous generation seem to have gotten along just fine," Tsuna reasoned. He turned to escape/leave for school–

"Ciaossu."

–only to run into a fedora-wearing, chameleon-carrying, harbinger of chaos.

Tsuna's first thought was _Shit, he's in my HOUSE!_

His second thought was _Where exactly did he get a suit from in that size?_*

"Are you Tsuna?" The baby asked, looking so innocent that at once Tsuna was deeply suspicious.

"No. I'm actually the reincarnation of a God. Retired. Hi," Tsuna replied, heart rate calming down as he stared at the baby in his living room.

Reborn didn't even bat an eyelash. This guy was good. "Well, starting from today, I'll be looking after you."

"…I see. Who are you again?" In light of mounting evidence of the 'you are screwed' kind, deny, deny deny.

The baby pulled out a business card and brandished it at Nana and Tsuna. "I'm the home tutor, Reborn."

There was a moment of silence as Nana and Tsuna peered down with identical faces that give away nothing but mild surprise. Tsuna eventually sighed. "The tutor is a chibi." Reborn's facial expression remained as it was. "Well, this to Japan. You'll fit right in."

He sidestepped Reborn (_Must. Not. Run. Maniacally._) while massaging his forehead. "Whatever. I'm leaving then!" He made his escape. Never had school seemed so appealing.

Nana waved a hand cheerfully while Reborn stared at his new victim- er, student_. Sawada Tsunayoshi… how interesting…_His eyes narrowed. Oh, this is going to be _fun_.

Meanwhile, Tsuna was walking briskly in the direction of Namimori Middle School. "A tutor? Just great. What is with that chibi anyway?"

"I'm a hitman."

"Oh, that explains everything – wait a second." Tsuna looked up at Reborn, who was sitting snugly on his head, amid all that spiky brown hair. "Alright, listen _Hitman_-san, why are you my tutor anyway? I don't really need one, my marks aren't that bad!"

"Sawada Tsunayoshi. Your academic and athletic achievements are average at best; you can cook, seem to have some aptitude with technology, and you're considered as nobody important at school. It's not the most stellar record, but I can work with that."

"…Are you sure you're not a stalker instead?"

Reborn jumped from his head onto the road in front of him. "Gathering evidence is a basic skill, Tsuna."

_I'll say. That's why I hacked into the Vongola database, to make sure stuff like this wouldn't happen. Fat lot of good it did me. _

A girl with a Midori middle school uniform peeked around the corner. She privately squealed. _I-I saw it! My heart's already beating so fast! He's just so cute; I just want to hug him right now!_

Tsuna had the feeling that someone was watching. Reborn, that is. He liked to let himself fade into the background; it was less troublesome that way.

"Aw, how cute!" They were interrupted when a girl in the Namimori uniform ran up to them and bent down to be on eye-level with Reborn.

"Ciaossu."

The orange-haired girl smiled just as cutely. "Good morning!"

The idol of Namimori Middle School, Sasagawa Kyoko, was cheerful, pleasant, popular and a sweet girl all round. And they were friends. She kind of reminded him of his own mother, as they both shared a similar temperament. Most of the boys, if anything, were envious of the fact that Kyoko enjoyed talking and being all friendly with Tsuna, the veritable nobody. However, Tsuna had no romantic interest in Kyoko whatsoever, though he did have a sneaking suspicion that was why they got along so well.

"Why are you wearing a suit?" Kyoko was asking.

"Because I'm in the mafia." Reborn gave her that artless smile of his which didn't match up to his words _at all_.

"Wow, that's so cool!" Kyoko said as she got up, brushing at her skirt. "Good morning Tsuna-kun," she said amiably.

"Morning Kyoko-san," Tsuna smile was sincere in return. "Heading off already?"

"Oh, yes. Mochida-sempai wanted to tell me something this morning; I think it's something to do with the committee. I'll see you later in class!" she beamed, before strolling off.

"Ok. Bye." Tsuna's face was friendly as he raised a hand to wave in return. Inside his mind, gears were turning. Mochida was captain of the kendo team, accepted, good looking (or "totally hot" according to many of the girls at Namimori Middle School), and possibly looking for more than just friendship from Kyoko.

This was unacceptable, as he was dating Tanaka Megumi from class 2B. Younger kohai and anyone else who had bore the guy's hounding could readily attest to this fact if they weren't wary of what the older boy would do to get even.

Reborn looked up. "Is she your friend?"

"Well, yeah," Tsuna answered, scratching the back of his head. Tsuna would be lying if he wasn't worried for Kyoko. She was so nice, but what did she think of Mochida?

"And you probably get along well because you have no interest in her romantically."

Tsuna's mind came back to earth, and he stared down at the other accusingly. "How do you know all this? And since when is it any of your business?"

"As your home tutor I should understand all of these kinds of relationships." Reborn paused. "Yet you do not like this Mochida she mentioned."

Trust a mafia hitman to be perceptive. "Just leave me alone already, I have school now."

He stalked off, but Reborn was persistent, if anything, and accompanied him.

Well, he'd worry about chibi mafia hitman tutors later. Tsuna liked Kyoko well enough that he was willing to intervene for his friend. That meant one thing.

"You're taking this hitman thing pretty well, Tsunayoshi."

Tsuna shrugged. "Stranger things have probably happened. Besides, I could be lucky. Maybe you're just a figment of my overactive imagination?"

_Thwack!_

"Wow, my mind's even registering pain!"

"Ok, now you're just being a smartass."

* * *

If Tsuna had been stupid and told anyone directly, Mochida's reputation could have been adequate protection to put a stop to whatever came next. Tsuna"s social status was nonexistent, because people never paid much attention to his presence, if at all. He was just a nameless face; if anything, he was the boy that happened to be friends with two girls that enjoyed a more elevated status, which naturally drew any attention to them instead. Anything he did to "tarnish" the upperclassman would be taken as a direct challenge.

And if Mochida decided to confront him, it would most likely be in a kendo battle, not just for obvious reasons, but because any match would be rigged by the captain placing a biased team member as referee.

So he would approach the one person he knew he could trust in this state of affairs.

Hana's eyebrows furrowed as she held a hand to her chin in thought. "Mochida-san dating Megumi?"

"I thought you might already know about it," Tsuna said, "considering I saw them making out when I went to buy groceries for my mother a couple of weeks ago."

Hana was Kyoko's best friend and Tsuna's other good friend, who had the makings of a top-notch lawyer, what with her razor-sharp wit and tricky mind. Behind that cool gaze and beatific smile was a person who could effortlessly convince and influence people around her, often without their knowing.

Most people had the impression that Hana was intelligent, mature, headstrong, and downright rude when the situation called for it. To Tsuna she was an iceberg; striking, calm, and with much more going on underneath the surface. He often wondered how Kyoko and Hana became best friends. In fact, how did he himself become friends with the both of them?

Kurokawa Hana tried to manipulate Tsuna once, when they were both in elementary school and she was still working on her technique. Not only did she fail miserably, he remained absolutely clueless towards her machinations. It was _weird_.

Hana had made sure to hone her scheming abilities until she could control the things around her with ease. Though her skills had improved when she entered junior high, she was still quite good at it when she was younger. But when Sawada managed to diffuse a situation effortlessly and unthinkingly, her curiosity was piqued. Tsuna was a natural manipulator; unaware of his instinctive actions that manoeuvred himself and those around him into more favourable circumstances.

He never was respected like Hana, or popular like Kyoko, but the two girls had befriended him anyway. Tsuna himself never complained about his reputation, but he was a private sort of person and appeared to revel in his anonymity. For the most part, he was unremarkable to the students and inhabitants in Namimori. Most of them, anyway. Hana prided herself in being more observant than most, and Kyoko had taken a shine to the kind boy.

Of course she was aware Mochida was interested in Kyoko. She was wondering what action she should take (he hadn't tried anything yet, but with his general flirting and romancing girls on the side, there was no way that jerk was going to be all over her best friend), until Tsuna met her before school to discuss it, or at least to make sure she was informed. What impressed her was that Tsuna not only knew about Mochida's interest and existing girlfriend (he had a similar kind of naivety that Kyoko did when it came to romance) but that he came to her for aid. It was logical; not only because of their friendship, but that he was one of the few people who were probably aware of Hana's calculating talents.

"Now that you mention it, I always thought something was going on between the two. Intuition playing up again Tsuna-kun?" she couldn't help but tease good-naturedly.

Tsuna's grin was sheepish. "Something like that." His senses were good, to the point that she and Kyoko poked fun at his 'supernatural sixth sense', likening it to a woman's intuition. For a supposed nobody, Tsuna was really quite insightful and ingenious, as well as adorable in his own way. She wondered why he wasn't a girl.

"You're spoiled as a boy, Tsuna," Hana sighed at her guy friend before ruffling his hair, making it stick up even more.

"Ah…thank you?" he said, confused.

She chuckled to herself, before sobering slightly. "You look a little tense. Anything else happen today? You can spill all your secrets to Hana-chan."

"So you can update your blackmail files? No thanks," Tsuna shook his head affably. "It's fine, just some family stuff. Nothing to worry about."

"Well, if you say so," she muttered, totally not buying it. "Now, leave it to Kurokawa Hana to sort out this mess. I mean the absolute cheek. No one messes about with Kyoko, not when I'm around, with this amazing mind at my disposal."

She grinned at Tsuna, who did so back. "I leave Kyoko's wellbeing in your capable hands, Hana-san," he said, saluting sharply.

The image made her want to coo, but that would just fluster him. Ryohei and Tsuna were two guys she knew she couldn't manipulate like everyone else. Kyoko's older brother and staunch protector, Ryohei, had an EXTREME-ness that meant any of Hana's intrigues were either too complicated to even bother doing (she had to be more direct in his case) or they rolled off of him like water on stone.

And for all his ordinariness, Tsuna had some underestimated talents. Like Hana's birthday last year, when someone tampered with the sound system, replacing the customary morning bell with the voice of her favourite actor called out birthday wishes. And instead of the Namimori school anthem, Hana's favourite song belted out, all seven minutes of it. The teachers were at a loss as to why, as was the Disciplinary Committee. In the end, they had to call in electricians to fix the problem.

Hibari had been in a bad mood all day, interrogating suspects ("who was the suicidal herbivore that _dared_ taint the school anthem by replacing it with J-pop rock?").

Inwardly Hana was cackling madly. She didn't know her friend had it in him (it couldn't have been anyone else, and Tsuna had been keeping something to himself all day, she just knew it). When she pestered him on how he did it, he just looked at her with a look that simply said 'Me? As if the insignificant Tsuna could pull off something like that.'

Yes, the boy was entertaining, with his own little character quirks. Like how it had taken ages for Tsuna to call her and Kyoko by their names. Now all she had to do was manipulate him into dropping the suffix, but she might need to enlist Kyoko's help on that one.

"Hey Tsuna," she said before she went off to deal with the problem.

"What is it, Hana-san?"

She smirked evilly. "How do you think Ryohei's gonna take all this when the circus gets out?"

Tsuna paled. "Between you and Ryohei-sempai, Mochida's _dead_."

* * *

Ten minutes before the beginning of classes, a pretty girl with ribboned ponytails ran up to the Mochida and slapped him. The upperclassman clutched a hand to his red cheek, which was throbbing painfully. "What was that for!"

"You womanizing jerk! We are _so_ over!"

Though well-liked, woe betide those who fall afoul of a woman scorned. Soon, girls were thronging around the area, glaring at the kendo captain with dagger eyes. Tsuna whistled to himself. That was fast.

Hana really scared him sometimes. Now Mochida would have rumours and whispers following him all day.

"Rika-chan heard it from Miki-chan, who got her information from Jun-chan, that Megumi-chan was dating Mochida-sempai! Imagine her surprise when she found out he was chatting up other girls…"

"No way! Who knew that Mochida could sink so low? Poor Megumi-chan. And to think he might have tried to dupe Kyoko-chan too."

"How dare he try to defile Kyoko-chan's inherent goodness and purity!" Ah, that was Fanboy #1. And Fanboy #2 added his own two cents in with "Two-faced bastard!"

Tsuna learnt first hand that rumours were a _bitch_.

Mochida should know that too, considering that he started so many of them.

The whole manipulative thing was Hana's forte all right, but he guess it really hadn't been too hard, as schoolyard gossip did most of the work for her. Kyoko wasn't the idol of Namimori Middle School for nothing. Evidently, everyone agreed she deserved better than Mochida.

"Why are so many herbivores crowding around the place? _Get to class_."

The drama was eventually broken up when Hibari, the Head of the Disciplinary Committee made an appearance, scattering students and teachers all over the place. Hana was pulling a somewhat clueless Kyoko away from "that no good Mochida", but the dark-haired girl winked at Tsuna as she passed him by.

He ambled off to his next class in much better spirits.

"Luckily Mochida was ousted, eh Tsuna?" Reborn said innocently. He'd popped up in random places all day. That pretty much proved that the school had secret passages around. (Tsuna used some of the bigger ones to get to class quickly, or unseen, after he tracked down the real blueprints of the buildings).

His answer was to lift an eyebrow just as innocuously. "It's called karma. You know how gossip travels. Maybe he was trying to be covert, but with some of the girls around here talking, I'm honestly not surprised Mochida-san's cheating ways got around."

"Ah." Reborn was staring at him curiously. Tsuna pretended not to notice.

* * *

The silver-haired boy stared at the sprawling school grounds before him. Students were milling about in small groups after the bell had rung, socialising and chatting casually.

His eyes focused on a lean figure with brown hair, which was waving goodbye to two girls as it heading towards the school gates.

"So that is… the Vongola's Tenth generation boss candidate, Sawada Tsunayoshi." The boy looked so young, so naïve. It left a foul taste in his mouth, to think a brat his age, one who knew nothing of the mafia, would be succeeding the Family.

His reverie was broken by a scuffle in the courtyard. "MOCHIDA! Putting moves on my sister has awakened my EXTREME wrath! Face my FISTS OF FURY!"

The Land of the Rising Sun was full of surprises. He reminded himself that this was a place that had spawned samurai and ninja, not to mention the Yakuza.

"Everyone! Ryohei's kicking Mochida's ass!"

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

"Hey Kyoko, you're brother's protecting your virtue."

"Hana, don't be ridiculous! Nii-chan! Don't worry, I'm fine!"

"No fighting on school grounds, or I'll _bite you to death_."

Gokudera Hayato watched as the white-haired boy with bandaged hands picked up the one with darker hair and a large wooden stick, walked a couple of steps until the two were clearly outside the school gates, and proceeded to resume his "extreme wrath".

This entire experience… might just be tolerable.

* * *

Home. Finally, after a tiring day in which his 'tutor' spent most of following him around. "Observing you in your natural habitat" as Reborn had put it. "Pissing me off" Tsuna privately thought.

The two had spent a few minutes watching Mochida get the crap kicked out of him (with Reborn muttering about 'potential recruits' while avidly watching Ryohei) before Tsuna headed for home. A small tape with the entire day's incident was nestled at the bottom of his bag disguised as jazz music. He had a few copies in case any were damaged or taken, just to make sure there were backups. He reminded himself to give one to Hana. She'd probably like to add it with whatever dirt she had previously dug up in case the future called for some info.

Right now the teenager gritted his teeth and endured. His mother was visiting one of her friends down the road, leaving Reborn and himself to 'get to know one another'. Tsuna was quietly writing in the black notebook in his hands# while the baby was sipping the cappuccino Tsuna had made for him.

The sight of the baby's unspoken approval with the beverage brought up a small spark of pride. Tsuna was close to his mother, considering his dad was absent the majority of the time. Sometimes, like when Iemitsu was called away urgently, she'd teach him to cook (their mother-son bonding time, he guessed, and because Nana always wanted a daughter to instruct some of her signature dishes to). Now he was definitely more proficient, though his mother still insisted on making his obento every morning.

Reborn put down his cup with a muted _clink_. "And now, Tsunayoshi, onto business."

Tsuna tilted his head. Finally, the moment of truth. And hopefully some answers. "Okay, shoot."

Reborn easily resisted showing any recognition at those words. He secretly doubted Tsuna was as 'in the dark' as his father and the rest of the Vongola believed. Still, his drink was as excellent as a genuine Italian cappuccino, so at least his student wasn't as hopeless as he first thought he might be. There were stories of Iemitsu's son being a clumsy boy when he was younger.

"I'll be frank with you. You're the Vongola family's tenth Generation boss."

Tsuna dropped his black biro onto the table with a clatter.

"I came here because I was requested from the current Vongola family boss, the Ninth, to train you to become an admirable mafia boss."

Tsuna blinked. "…I'm sorry, I don't follow." A yellowed piece of paper was thrust in front of his face, which he took tentatively. A general feeling of trouble overtook him as he stared at the names of the family tree.

"The Vongola family's first boss retired and crossed to Japan. He's your great, great, great grandfather."

A quiver went through Tsuna. "I've never heard about this…" That was true. No one had told him, he'd come across that surprising piece of information on his own. He was eight at the time and had promptly fallen off his chair in shock.

"In other words, since you inherited the Vongola blood, you are a legitimate candidate to become the next boss," Reborn continued blithely.

Ok, that was new. He knew of the relation, but it hadn't occurred to him that the Mafia wanted him to… enter the family business. "…Bullshit," Tsuna breathed, as the words fully registered.

"Don't worry, I'll train you to become a great mafia boss."

"Why are you deciding everything by yourself?" Tsuna demanded. "That's my life you're talking about, and I'm not becoming a mafia boss!"

The baby ignored him. "It's sleepy time, see you tomorrow." And with that, Reborn calmly bounded up the stairs. Tsuna pocketed his black book and followed, annoyed. Reborn was already dressed in a small pair of pyjamas, in his bed and surrounded by tripwires and grenades.

Tsuna crossed his arms. "What the hell did you set up?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, if you try to disturb my sleep those booby traps will blow up."

"Fine, I'll sleep on the futon." Tsuna reconciled himself to his sanctuary's invasion. He'd never have his room to himself.

Hopefully Reborn wouldn't realise there were borderline illegal electronics hidden behind the bookcase, or that he had shoved all sorts of junk in the attic that he preferred no one went searching through. He turned back to Reborn again, who was already sleeping – with his eyes open. As befitting a hitman he supposed.

"Probably just sleeping early because of the jetlag," Tsuna muttered. "Don't think you can just come here and disrupt my life, whatever Vongola seems to think!"

The nose bubble inflated and deflated quietly as the baby continued snoozing.

Tsuna threw up his hands in irritation, not noticing the fleeting smile that passed onto Reborn's face.

* * *

* Reborn's suits are all tailor-made. Mafia hitmen may assassinate for money, but they do so for a great deal of money, and in style.

# Unfortunately, not a Death Note, or Tsuna would have had an infallible weapon. No one would think to suspect him if Reborn were to have a heart attack.

* * *

Author's Note:

I am trying to improve my writing style. What's your opinion? Like it? Hate it?

I've wanted to write a KHR fanfic for a long time now, one with an Out-of-Character Tsuna. I mean, a Mafia Advisor father absent overseas for most of the time, and a mother who disregards most of the strange antics happening? (She knows more than she lets on though, I'll give her that). I reckon Tsuna could have a rather… colourful childhood.

Not to mention, _Saluta Morte de Parte Mia_ by shizuke inspired me to get out my old, neglected draft version of this chapter. And healthy doses of crack from the Internet XD

My major changes: Tsuna Who? rather than No-Good Tsuna. He actually gets along with Kyoko, and Hana (who would have a larger part if it was up to me). There would be OCs running around, because Tsuna knows people outside of Namimori and the Vongola. And side stories galore, just for good measure :)

This version of Tsunayoshi hacks, creates technical things, has contacts in the underworld, knows more than he lets on, and has taken badly to the idea of becoming a Mafia boss, what with Vongola and Reborn's joint efforts. I feel bad, Tsuna's in for a tough ride…

I'm not sure if I'll be continuing this, but damn, is it fun dabbling in Alternate Universes :D

~ SwordsMagician


	2. When Bombs Run Wild

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

* * *

_Life isn't weird; it's the people in it._

* * *

_Mikhail earned the nickname 'King of Hearts' when he impaled a man with the razor-sharp edge of a playing card. He had quick reflexes, a good eye and an even better aim. In a heartbeat, the outwardly carefree teenager could turn into a cold, detached killer, and then merrily skip away from the body._

_His Aunt Elizaveta (aka 'the Black Widow') was Head of the Volkov Mafia Family situated in Russia. Well-known for a meticulous knowledge of poisons and chemicals, as well as her track record with men (all five of her previous husbands died in uncertain circumstances) over the years she had amassed fortune well over $60 million USD. _

_But we're not concerned with the movements of the Volkov Family, but of the detour Mikhail made to Japan. _

_After a guarded meeting with a personal contact gleaned the last bit of knowledge he needed, piecing different sources together to receive the bigger picture had been easy. The entire venture was a different story, but no matter, Mikhail liked a good challenge. _

_His reason for all the trouble? The Volkov Family had been embroiled in a quarrel with the Acerbi Family over the disappearances of people from both sides. The Volkov didn't sniff out any perpetrators among their connections; the Acerbi were unable to interrogate any useful information from their enemies. The two families were not on the best of terms, and the only vague implications were pointing to the other. _

_So far it had been a kind of Cold War, with the two skirting around each other suspiciously. The Acerbi Family was one of the most violent mafia families around, and were respected for their ruthlessness in dealing with enemies. The Volkov Family was infamous for gathering intelligence through a multitude of channels and the allegiances between one Volkov member to one another. It was said that traitors inside the Family were not only dealt with swiftly, but that all traces of that person were to disappear, leaving no hint of existence – the ultimate form of death. _

_Things would have escalated – badly – until both sides received coded emails, signed only with the name _Yoshi_. The attached files were a comprehensive examination of the serial killer Isaac Ogden and his campaign to turn the two Families against each other for his own unfathomable and twisted pleasures, complete with details, evidence, times, plans, you name it. _

_The next day marked the first alliance treaty between the two families in over fifty years. With a name and face, it was only a matter of time before the Volkov tracked down the perpetrator, and the Acerbi was only too happy to deal with the problem in their usual violent and gory fashion. _

_Now there was just one more loose thread to deal with. And Elizaveta was a thorough woman. _

"_We really need to thank this Yoshi for the assistance. If not for his involvement, we could be at war with the Acerbi." She quietly closed her laptop. The email had been simple and to the point, effectively breaking the ice between the Acerbi. She didn't trust them much, but at least she wasn't worried about a confrontation now. _

"_Misha," she used Mikhail's other, more innocent nickname, "be a dear and find him for us will you?" _

_Mikhail raised his purple-tinted sunglasses, intrigued. "Really, Aunt? I hear he is quite the elusive one, no?" _

_The Black Widow drained her wine glass dry. "We aren't one of the most informed Mafia families for no reason. Employ all our contacts." Her manicured hand tapped the marble table thoughtfully. "He would be a useful addition after all. I want him for our Family." _

_Mikhail shrugged. "Okay. If that's all, I shall talk and see what some of our connections can bring me." He replaced his sunglasses and headed for the door, pausing to grab his red and blue coat. "Do svidania.*" _

_Elisaveta waved languidly to her nephew. "Good hunting." _

_It had taken one and a half weeks for Mikhail to chance upon the defining factor that proved his theories of the Japanese link, three months for more concrete leads, and another two months to narrow his search down to a precise area. _

_Changing identification papers three times, appearance four times, and transport seven times, he soon found himself assimilating into Namimori as a foreign teenager on a brief, relaxing holiday. _

_The teen couldn't get his hands on a photograph (Yoshi was good at covering his tracks), but managed a general outline of appearance, as well as the layout of the Namimori area. At first he entertained himself with visualizing this Yoshi's character. He was rumoured to be pretty young – the informant had chuckled and told a puzzled Mikhail to expect nothing. _

_Maybe he was a teenager like Mikhail. Perhaps some kind of young genius hacker. That made him perfect for the Volkov! They were sure to become good friends. He grinned cheerfully. Their Head of Communications, Anya, had practically been salivating at the potential and skill of Yoshi's encrypted files. It had taken her a quarter an hour to crack, which was saying something for a young lady who could type her way into the Pentagon in a few minutes. _

_Mikhail hit the snag when he walked through one of Namimori's more secluded parks, where the sound of yelling children was distant and dream-like. It was then that he fully understood his informer's words when he found a lone boy sitting on the swings. _

_A bead of sweat trailed down his neck. Mikhail swallowed audibly. It was worse than he could ever have imagined. _

_The kid was wearing blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt. The soft grey jacket was one size too big, which wasn't helping at all. Brown fluffy hair beckoned to be ruffled. Big golden-brown eyes stared straight into Mikhail's teal ones with a child's ancient wisdom, coupled with unbridled curiosity and uncanny reserve. _

_The entire image was overwhelming. _

_Mikhail, who could take on KGB agents twice his age and size with a specially customized deck of playing cards, _squealed_. "Omigod, you're so CUTE!" _

_Adorable eyes widened as Sawada Tsunayoshi found himself glomped by some foreign stranger. _

_It was on this day that Tsuna learnt firsthand the OTHER dangers of the mafia. _

_It took a crowbar to prise Mikhail off of him._

* * *

**The Mafia Wants You!  
**By swordsmagician

Target 002: When Bombs Run Wild

_The Mafia Boss…_

_A leader who rules a criminal organisation_

_Able to move a number of trusted members with one hand,_

_Willing even to risk his life for the family,_

_Surrounded by the respect and admiration of all _

_Seen as a hero by the children of the slums… _

"Oh, you can't be serious…"

"Is that right?" Reborn asked Tsuna, who was clutching a kind of _Mafia for Dummies_ book, which he was being compelled to read, at gunpoint. Go figure.

"You're the one forcing me to read it!" he said indignantly.

Reborn, who happened to be steadily pointing a gun at his student's head this entire time, ignored the minor detail. "Read it every morning," he instructed. "You're the one who will become the Tenth Generation Boss after all."

"Haven't I been saying no!" Tsuna slumped to the floor, annoyed beyond measure. "Is that why you decided propaganda was the way to go? I never wanted to be a mafia boss!"

"Don't worry," Reborn assured him, "I'll take care of it on my own." The hitman clacked his gun in a very threatening way for a person that didn't even reach Tsuna's knees.

"I'm very, very worried," the teen sweatdropped, staring at the assortment of weaponry cluttering his bedroom floor.

Before, Tsuna's life had been normal…enough#. Now, it had just gotten worse. People (who he would track down!) wanted him to become involved with the mafia; more so than any of the previous attempts.

But he wasn't going to tell Reborn about that.

"This is all just so you can become a great Vongola family 10th Generation boss," Reborn berated his student.

Tsuna scowled faintly. "I told you, I don't want to become a mafia boss. How many times do you want me to repeat this for it to get into your thick skull?"

"This is your destiny. Never give up on life."

"I'm not giving up on life; I'm just not willing to actively pursue a life of crime!"

"Don't worry," Reborn declared, "I'll stick with you everywhere you go so you're trained well."

Tsuna developed a small tic in one eye. "That's exactly what I'm most worried about…"

* * *

Sometimes Tsuna thought he had a mild case of insomnia. Not enough to hinder his daily life, but enough that he would just heave a sigh and get some work done in bed because he knew he wouldn't manage to get any sleep. It happened sparingly, so he wrote it off to an out-of-whack body clock.

Tsuna didn't really see himself as an inventor, but you wouldn't believe how many amazingly strange things can be thought up at four in the morning. Or the sheer amount of homework that can be completed in one sleepless night.

This time, he had fallen asleep well enough, even dreaming something rather nice. He was in that ice-cream parlour on the other side of Namimori, seated in front of the biggest chocolate-vanilla sundae he had ever seen. Grasping a spoon that conveniently lay next to him, he was about to take a large scoop before Reborn popped out of the dish with ice cream adorning his fedora and a red cherry clutched in Leon's mouth, successfully scaring the metaphorical shit of him.

"Look, you've already invaded my life. Get the hell out of my dreams!"

"You should be prepared for all sorts of attacks Tsuna. Even in dreams. This is good training for you."

He stopped and mentally counted to ten. "Your presence has had such an effect on my mind that even a Dream!Reborn attempts to tutor me. I'm trying to sleep, not talk to you in what is fast becoming a nightmare. Will you at least torment me when I'm conscious?"

"Nope." Reborn suddenly smirked. "And just so you know I've laced this dessert with paralysis-inducing herbs."

Tsuna paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. He stared at the chibi-hitman, then the ice-creamy goodness, before throwing the loaded utensil at Reborn's head. "Must you ruin everything?"

"Teaching is such a thankless job."

And because dreams are the processing of random rigamole, sometimes even including forewarnings to the sleeper, Reborn morphed into Pikachu. "Shall I thundershock you for your impudence?"

"HIIIIIIIE~!" Tsuna shrieked, before falling off his bed in a tangle of sheets. Moaning, he rubbed his eyes, only to be faced with the one of the scariest waking visions known to man.

"Good morning Tsuna-Who." Reborn was clad in a typical doctor's outfit, complete with sterilized gloves and face mask, and holding what looked like–

"…Are those defibrillators?"

Reborn's face held no sign of regret or shame. "Maybe…"

Bloody Reborn and his electrocution tactics. "You're worse than House, you know that?"

"Why thank you," Reborn said as he hopped off the bed. "At least I won't have to bother waking you up now. Prepare for school. You have fifteen minutes or you die."

"Yeah, yeah…"

It was, to be honest, difficult, with Reborn cajoling and bullying his way into Tsuna's life, and Tsuna having to thwart Reborn's schemes. Already he had been forced to prevent a 'situation' with the Volleyball team, learnt to dodge the barrage of many bullets Reborn shot to "keep his skills and Tsuna's reflexes sharp", and made to cater to the hitman's 'special dietary needs'.

Tsuna hoped all of that caffeine seriously stunted Reborn's growth.

* * *

_Namimori Middle School  
Class 1-A_

"We have a new transfer student who was studying overseas in Italy. Gokudera Hayato."

Tsuna's danger radar, well-honed over the years, made itself known quite insistently.

_Italy, Reborn's homeland, huh? _Was there some kind of conspiracy going on around here? At this rate, he'd never be able to meet an Italian without thinking of ulterior motives.

"He's so friggin' HOT!"

"On top of that he's moved from another country."

"Oh. My. God. Please tell me he's single."

_That's right fangirls…Drool, drool in his glory!_ Tsuna entertained himself inwardly. Most female classmates looked to be quite taken in by the badboy image. Even Kyoko was smiling! Then again, she might just be acting friendly to welcome the new student, because Kyoko was like that.

Gokudera Hayato had short silver hair, a lot of bling, a casual view when it came to uniforms (unbuttoned and no tie, Hibari would have a field day), and a presence that just exuded rebellion. But Tsuna never was one to accept stereotypes or outward appearances – for all he knew, Gokudera could be a gentle soul, a geek at heart, or a cynical killer.

But if one were to judge by facial expressions alone, the boy clearly wanted to destroy him. Possibly with loads of bloodshed.

Tsuna's eyes widened as he became the sole attention of the transfer student. _What is it? What did I do this time?_ He dredged up memory records. Nope, never met the guy before, but here Gokudera was, looking like he wanted to strangle him with his bare hands.

"Gokudera-kun, your seat is over… Gokudera-kun?"

Gokudera ignored the teacher, walked right up to Tsuna and kicked his desk over fiercely. Tsuna sat unmoving in his chair, unaffected by the violent act as the table crashed to the ground. _Okay, so you've made your point (jackass), but seriously, our eyes just met…_

It was at times like this that Tsuna was really grateful he listened to his intuition and moved his chair backwards by a couple of inches.

After effectively escaping the wrath of the volatile boy, he was on the receiving end of a signature glare, before Gokudera tch-ed and moved to sit in his designated spot. People started talking immediately, from gangster theories to fanclub issues. Tsuna could still feel a heavy presence fixed on the back of his head.

Seems like he earned the new guy's eternal enmity purely by existing.

"Tsuna-kun, are you okay?" A considerate, concerned face peered at him worryingly.

"I'm fine, Kyoko-san."

Kyoko beamed encouragingly. "At first, I thought you knew him, but I'm sure Gokudera-kun will warm up to you sooner or later."

"Perhaps." Tsuna flinched a bit. Most likely not, if those continual death glares were any hint. _Remind me why this guy isn't in juvie?_

He sighed, wearily propping his head on one arm. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

The useful thing about being somewhat average was that no one bothers to pay much attention to you. Tsuna never worried too much about bullies, who scarcely remembered he existed, let alone bothered tracking him down to hassle. It was this way that he walked invisibly past a trio of ghetto seniors, pondering the appearance of the new transfer student.

_Gokudera…I might have come across his file on the Vongola database…If he's really affiliated to them, then Reborn _has_ been busy. The little hellion. _

Tsuna was already out of the building by this point, before his thoughts were interrupted. "Your wussyness is an eyeful."

He turned to Gokudera, who was recklessly smoking a cigarette on school grounds. The Italian's other hand was fiddling around with a lighter, the small flame sparking erratically.

"Is wussyness even a word?" he asked.

Gokudera paused, looking bewildered, before his face resumed that perpetual frown. "Whatever." He closed the lighter with a snap, muttering, "If a pinprick like you becomes the Tenth Gen, the Vongola Family is finished."

Tsuna raised an eyebrow. "Try telling them that then."

Again, the transfer student faltered at Tsuna's remark before soldiering on. "I refuse to accept it! I'm the one who's fit to be the Tenth!"

"Dude, you're welcome to the job _anytime_."

Gokudera was fuming by now. "What is up with you? I've been watching you the last few days-"

(_Stalking me for a few days!_)

"-and it's a waste of time to further evaluate a weakling like you."

Being called a weakling? Tsuna didn't mind that. But _evaluation_? Like being a mafia boss was some kind of prize? Hah, it was one that Tsuna had no interest in whatsoever. "Then what are you hanging around in Japan for if I'm so hopeless?" he enquired bluntly.

"You're a nuisance." Gokudera abruptly pulled out two sticks of dynamite, "Die right here." He lit them with his cigarette and lobbed them at him while having the nerve to calmly reply "Later," like he wasn't, oh, _committing murder, on school grounds no less!_

From hard-earned experience, Tsuna's flight response automatically activated as he leapt back, somersaulting away from the dynamite. Before he could do anything else though, a quick whizz of something burst past him. The burning wicks were sheared off harmlessly, and then that bloody voice appeared-

"Ciaossu."

Sigh. "Reborn-san, I might have known."

The baby hitman had appeared from the secret apartment in a tree of all things, gun still smoking. Took in the circumstances at a glance. "Not bad reflexes, Tsuna. And you came earlier than I expected, Gokudera Hayato."

Not for the first time, Tsuna was overcome by the uncanny urge to throttle his tutor. "So you do know each other…"

Reborn smirked, just like his dream-version. "Yeah, he's a member of the Family that I called over from Italy."

"He's in the mafia too?" Forget dying via dynamite. Paranoia would get to him first.

"It's my first time meeting him as well, though," Reborn continued as he assessed the boy in front of him.

Gokudera stared keenly at the baby hitman. "So you're the 9th's highly trusted assassin, Reborn. I've heard rumours about you. You're not kidding about me becoming a candidate as the successor if I kill Sawada, right?"

_Oh -censored-_

"Yeah, that's right." Reborn smiled. "Well, let's continue the killing."

It was at this less-than-thrilling comment that Tsuna couldn't help quipping, "For a tutor who wants to train me to become a mafia boss, you really seem fine with the idea of me dying on you. To run the Vongola, don't I have to be…you know, alive?"

Reborn pointed his gun. "Shut up and fight with your dying will."

And who knows what kind of weird side-effects his body could suffer because of these 'Dying Will' bullets? Tsuna started running.

"Wait." The Italian lit dynamite sticks in quick succession and threw them with sharp accuracy. Tsuna was able to dodge them easily enough – after all, it wasn't like Gokudera was the first demolitions expert to try to blow him up. Shun was testing out his exploding tags when they first met-

Reborn stood to the side, nonchalantly narrating. "It's said that Gokudera Hayato is a human explosive device that conceals dynamite all over his body. His other name is Smokin' Bomb Hayato."

"I think I realised that when he _tried to kill me_."

'Smokin' Bomb Hayato' was relentless in his assault, as he brought out even more of his arsenal. Reborn was right; Gokudera carried around _a lot_ of TNT on his person. "Die."

"Aiya!" Tsuna couldn't help yelling as he cartwheeled and sprinted away like his life (truly) depended on it. This whole battle was less than ideal, and his opponent had what looked to be a truckload of explosives at his disposal, but Gokudera didn't have the advantage of fighting on home turf. Let Gokudera think he was useless. Tsuna found himself running towards what he knew was a dead-end, before stopping suddenly as he twisted around to face his chaser.

"This is it," Gokudera said grimly, as he flung a multitude of dynamite sticks. "You're trapped!" Tsuna ignored this as he turned back and continued his dash…

…right up the wall of the school building! Then he flipped over Gokudera's head and the oncoming bombs in a move reminiscent of so many martial arts movies, before nimbly landing on his feet, skidding in the dirt. Gokudera quickly scurried back to escape the detonation, but was quick to throw more explosives, which littered the floor in front of Tsuna's landing position.

Time slowed down as he stared at the smouldering wicks. It would have been so much easier if Gokudera had been conveniently knocked out like Tsuna was hoping for.

Too bad Murphy's Law was something Tsuna lived by.

Now, if there's one thing to point out about having Japanese girls as school friends, then it's how the majority of arcade games you play won't always be the normal sharpshooters and street fighter brawls. Let it be said that stamping out dynamite is like an EXTREME Version of DDR. Only with a chance of explosions. And death.

"What?" Gokudera's voice was muffled by his cigarettes as he watched the defusing of his weapons. He cursed. "DOUBLE BOMB!"

The dynamite sticks were in the air this time. Unthinkingly (hey, he was on an adrenaline rush!) Tsuna started defusing with his bare hands.

_Note to self, get a pair of gloves, or at least hide the burns later. Mum might ask questions._ He grimaced slightly as his hands smarted (he'd regret this later), but Tsuna wasn't taking going to take this whole battle as a clear cut do-or-die situation. Maybe if he could pull this fight off, some other unfortunate guy could take over for the Vongola and he would be free of Reborn's accursed teachings!^

Reborn noted distantly that Tsuna's reactions to Gokudera's attacks were a far cry from his first impression. His evasion skills were excellent, his reflexes were exceptional, and he was doing well in the face of adversity: i.e. a bomb-toting sharp-tongued Mafioso.

It was hardly expected from an inexperienced Japanese schoolboy. He was quite impressed by the tenacity of his student. Reborn hadn't even had to shoot him with the Dying Will Bullet…yet.

By this time, Gokudera was looking pretty pissed off, if the throbbing vein on his forehead was any indication. He drew out a _huge_ amount of explosives. "TRIPLE BOMB!"

Unfortunately, he also dropped one. Distracted, his hands fumbled and the dynamite sticks fell to the floor in a chain reaction, as did all but one of the cigarettes clutched in his mouth. "Shit," Gokudera said, facing what looked to be an impending demise. "The end of me."

Tsuna acted swiftly. Without another thought he was bringing out a small sphere from his pocket and shaking it frantically.

It was something he had come up with as a child, when he had watched some of the other kids throw water balloons at one another in the summer heat. He hadn't been asked to join in, and he didn't ask to either.

Just this morning he had taken the thing from his desk drawer on a whim, and promptly forgotten about it. Only now did he remember the object's usefulness. As he twisted it open, the sphere emitted a dull blue glow, and Tsuna braced himself as a flood of water rushed out, much more than it seemed physically possible for it to contain. This doused all the sticks of dynamite littering the floor, as well as the two students themselves. Reborn had the advantage of higher ground in this situation, and had withdrawn farther away to a window ledge, while still keeping a distant eye on the both of them.

From across him, Gokudera spluttered, hands still splayed out. He was dumbfounded; it clearly showed on his face. Tsuna himself was panting slightly, hands still clutching the two (now empty) half circles. Both of them were drenched, dripping water on the floor like they had partaken in some kind of excessive waterfight.

It was at this point that Tsuna burst out laughing.

* * *

If there's one thing Gokudera knows since he first met this boy in front of him, it's that nothing has been going to plan. The brown haired figure avoids his attacks, ignores the goading aimed to rile him up, talks back and bamboozles everything, while he hasn't raised a hand in retaliation, regardless of the attempts on his life.

Gokudera was so sure for a couple of seconds that he was going to die. And then Sawada does – something - and a torrent of water extinguishes all the explosives. They are both _soaked_, and Gokudera knows they must look a sight. What throws him off even more is that after a short spell of silence Sawada Tsunayoshi starts to laugh.

He's taken aback and spellbound at the same time. He's been nothing but rude and insulting, he even tries to kill him, yet Sawada finds him worth saving and has the spirit to laugh about everything afterwards. The other boy's voice is so open and infectious, and they both look so ridiculous that Gokudera can't help but join in.

Their mirthful laughs are almost hysterical, giving what had taken place in the past ten minutes.

Everything had gone all wrong, and he was so set on hating the other with every fibre of his being. Gokudera's face is still wet from the earlier onslaught of water, so if tears unintentionally sprang up, they intermingled unseen. He cannot distinguish if they are of happiness, sorrow or relief anyway.

Gokudera finds himself seeing more to Sawada than he first rashly concluded.

Eventually, they both calm down. The acrid smell of smoke still lingers in the air as Gokudera looks at Tsunayoshi; unpretentious, skilful; compassionate; and cannot imagine a better successor for the Vongola.

He falls to his knees and gladly bows his head. "I was mistaken! You're the one who's fit to be the boss!"

* * *

_I think all those explosions have impaired my hearing…_

"Juudaime! I'll follow you! Command me to do anything!"

_No, I've just gone insane. _

"Having the loser serve under the winner is a family rule." Reborn explained. He had the audacity to act like the previous events of the day were to be accepted, like nothing.

"Rule?" _Though it does sound like the alpha rules a mafia Family would follow…_

Gokudera looked pensive. "Actually, I never had ambitions to become the 10th. It's just that when I heard that the 10th Gen is a Japanese guy the same age as me, I felt that I had to test his strength."

"Um, okaaaaay…"

Gokudera's face returned to its admiring and (dare he say it) disturbingly friendly look. "But you proved me wrong! You are much more than I'd ever expected!" This was all… very out of character from what Tsuna had seen so far. "You put yourself on the line to save me, even though I was your enemy! As Gokudera Hayato, I'll place my life in your hands!"

Tsuna balked at these words. "H-hold on, you don't have to entrust your life to me! I mean, can't we just be classmates?"

"**Absolutely not.**"

Gokudera's steely gaze didn't exactly have any room for compromise. _And I'm too weirded out to refuse…What kind of a situation is this? _

Reborn gazed at his student. "Gokudera became your subordinate because of your strength. Good job Tsuna."

For once, Tsuna was at a loss for words.

Until his attention was drawn to another disturbance. "Oh no, these guys are cutting class." _Great, the delinquent seniors._

One sneered "This requires some punishment. You're only allowed to cut starting senior year. How many front teeth do you want broken?" _Maybe they were attracted by the blasts?_

Beside him, Gokudera's face became shadowed. "Looks like it's time to make myself useful." A few recognizable red sticks emerged in his hands. "Leave it to me," he reassured Tsuna. "I'll totally annihilate them."

"Eh? Gokudera-san, you don't have to! _Don't use dynamite_!"

* * *

Tsuna had skipped class. So had that new transfer student.

Hana quietly packed away her books, eyes flickering to Tsuna's empty desk from time to time. She was smart, but this was outrageous. You didn't need to be a genius to connect the dots, and she had seen firsthand the new guy's less than impressive attitude towards her friend. At least school was over and she could investigate further.

Tsuna was a quietly capable guy, but the very idea some upstart might be making things difficult for him was enough to make Hana to inwardly seethe. She allowed the quiet fury to simmer down into cold, planned retribution, before she got ahead of herself.

Outside, Hana scanned the students congregating after the bell. It was easy enough to spot Tsuna on the outskirts of the crowd, walking towards the school gates with the silver-haired punk in tow. Her eyes narrowed. Tsuna looked a little flustered. As for the punk, he was beside her friend, but what was even stranger was that the guy was _smiling_. As in, no scowl or unbecoming look on his face. He was even _talking animatedly_. It was a complete 180 degrees change from all the death glares being sent earlier.

As the two drifted further away from the throng of people, she caught snatches of their conversation.

"Please, feel free to tell me anything!"

"Well, then you do realise that with a uniform like that, Hibari-san will kill you, right?"

"There's no need to worry on my behalf! Still, I'm touched by your concern."

Hana draped a lock of dark hair behind her ear serenely as she ambled closer to the two. "Hey, Tsuna-kun, I was looking for you."

Tsuna noticed her instantly and smiled, albeit in a strained sort of way. "What is it?"

It didn't escape her attention when the silver haired guy got all defensive at her approach.

"Well," Hana mused, "you weren't in class, so at first I speculated that you were truanting again. Later I thought something might have come up." She ignored the other boy as she focused on Tsuna. "Not to mention, the classes heard blasts earlier today. Some Disciplinary members just went to check it out, and found three seniors who apparently blew up a part of the school building. Because they're fairly battered, they've escaped punishment for now."

"Ah, is that so?" Tsuna's face held no outward signs of lying, but she was now focused on someone currently giving her the Evil Eye.

Hana was glaring back at Gokudera icily. "Don't get me started on you. I'm painfully aware of your antagonism towards Tsuna-kun." You could just hear the silent words 'you scum' in the air. Gokudera immediately went rigid, the scowl making a hasty return.

"I-it was just a misunderstanding, that's all," Tsuna said hastily, sensing incoming peril yet again.

Gokudera and Hana sent Tsuna identical 'stay out of this' looks before sizing each other up. Tsuna quailed indecisively. Who knew what would happen if he were to interfere with these two dangerous individuals?

"Gokudera Hayato, wasn't it?" Dark eyes scrutinized the transfer student.

"And who might you be?" Hands twitched, as if they were just itching to get a hold of some dynamite.

"I'm Kurokawa Hana. Tsuna-kun is a _dear_ friend of mine."

Gokudera glowered. "Well, I am proud to proclaim myself as Juudaime's subordinate!"

_Oh no he __**didn't**__._

She blinked. "Juudaime? Subordinate?"

Tsuna knew he had to intervene. _Now_. "Ah, Gokudera-san gave me a nickname of sorts. He's just kidding around."

"What do you want me to do, Juudaime? Should I _mmph_-", Tsuna swiftly covered Gokudera's mouth. Hana's form was starting to tremble, and that worried him.

Tentatively he said "Hana-san…?"

He was almost scared out of his wits as Hana let out a long and large peal of laughter. "Ha, Tsuna, you've got a follower!" The girl held her aching sides. "That is so – well, adorable!"

Tsuna stiffened. A hint of pink sprinkled over his cheeks.

(It was then that Hana's suspicions were confirmed. It was obvious this was why he was more than little embarrassed today. Never one for the limelight, having somebody who pays ardent attention and awe towards you is a new, rather unpleasant experience).

"Hana-san, it's not like that-"

"That's right!" Hands crossed over his chest, Gokudera planted himself in front of Tsuna protectively. "I'm his right-hand man!"

Tsuna's face and mind went blank. Hana let loose a few more chuckles, before smiling at Gokudera. What that smile entailed? It oozed of 'I am going to milk this situation for all it's worth'. It was on par with Reborn in terms of predicting trouble.

"Is that so?" she purred. "Then you're been appointed with the honour of looking out for your new friend."

"Hana-san!"

She dragged him over to one side, whispering, "Tsuna. Here is someone who obviously _worships_ the very ground you walk on. I'm impressed, considering he looked fit to murder you earlier, so you can tell me _all about it_ later." She smirked. "Something tells me today's proceedings wasn't really something you wanted or planned for."

"Of course not!"

"Then there's only one thing you can do. Take advantage of it!"

"No way!" Tsuna was aghast. Though he really should have guessed; this was Hana, who for all he knew was running Namimori from the shadows.

The girl shrugged. "Well if you won't, I will!" She spun around to Gokudera. "Alright, listen closely! You must ensure Tsuna doesn't spend all of his time by himself. He sometimes eats lunch with Kyoko and I, but spends most of his time lonerated. He needs to socialise more, those people skills of his should to be utilised. Oh, and I've always thought there was something going on all these years that he doesn't tell me about…"

Good lord, Hana was taking Gokudera's proclamations seriously, and tasking him with Tsuna's wellbeing. What was wrong with the world?

Tsuna was scandalised. He was even more so when he noticed Gokudera was writing all of Hana's advice down on a small notepad.

"Gokudera-san, not you too!"

Hana's presence wasn't aiding his plight. It was _encouraging it_.

And he was belatedly realising that Reborn manoeuvred him into gaining a particularly _zealous_ member for his 'Mafia Famiglia'.

Had he been an arsonist in some previous life to deserve this?

* * *

* Russian for 'goodbye' as some may guess or be aware of.

# His powers of denial were second only to his mother, who time and time again would dismiss any support pointing to a husband working for the mob.

^ If not for his circumstances, Xanxus would have sneezed.

* * *

Author's Note:

Wow. I wasn't expecting too much, but I'm surprised my story was well-received. Thank you to all who read and reviewed!

…And I pray I haven't EPICLY FAILED the action scene. I need more practice, no?

Before each chapter I'll normally start off with something from Tsuna's childhood, the people he meets, etc. I hope it will explain in a little more depth to you all what Tsuna's been going through / doing before Reborn came to Japan. Ah, character development…

The Volkov is a (fictional, obviously) Russian Mafia Family. Tsuna, while intervening into what could have become a large Mafia war, manages to garner unwanted attention from the mob, especially the two Families who now owe him for putting a stop to it all. And considering he's eight years old at the time and doing it under an alias, he's still stuffed.

At least he's able to, and I quote this from a reviewer: 'give them those big brown eyes and they run off with their consciences stabbed to death.' An almost foolproof weapon against assassins, no?

I mentioned to some reviewers earlier that I have no plans for pairings as of yet. This is still early on, so I have no idea what's going to play out however many updates later, but nothing is resolved. I may still mention/acknowledge various pairings, but it'll mostly be humorous stuff and connotations :D


	3. Life is Just a Game

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

_

* * *

_

Their name was derived from the Italian word acerbo_, meaning 'heartless, harsh'. _

_There couldn't be a more appropriate name for the Acerbi Family. They were one of the most violent mafia families around, if they hadn't already murdered their way to the top of the list. The big guns of the Family were all powerhouses in their own right, and though they may not be _completely_ heartless, they were harsh when the situation called for it. _

_No one crossed them without dire consequences, which often meant an over usage of violence, monstrous feats of strength and the frequent appearance of lethal objects. _

_The current Head was Dante __Tarantino; imposingly tall, muscled and tanned, with enough stories behind the scars networking his body to pack a thick novel. This was the type of man that defined the Mafia – he looked much like a typical thug, but with added finesse. _

_While not necessarily tactful, any criminal syndicate could appreciate a man able to unleash enough killer intent to cause people to pass out from pure terror alone. And he was currently listening to his second in command's report. _

"_Matko confirmed that the Volkov have managed to track down Yoshi. Looks like they're seeking to recruit him." _

"_Hmph. Undeniably has that Volkov woman written all over it. Who did they send?" _

_Adelardi consulted his file. "The King of Hearts." _

_Dante grunted. "She must be interested then, to send her nephew. He's good at what he does, even with that pansy nickname." The boss brooded over Adelardi's words before heaving a great sigh. "Well then, I'll just have to meet Yoshi personally." He got to his feet, mind made up. "I'm heading over to Japan." _

"…_Right now?" Dante was a man of instinct, so it wasn't all that surprising for him to make such decisions on the spur of the moment. _

"_Yep." Dante picked up his hefty war hammer, which he rested on one shoulder casually. "Besides, I still have to thank him." _

_Adelardi, as Dante's right-hand man, was expert at reading between the lines. "You mean you're going to 'invite' him into the Family." The quotation marks hung in the air incriminatingly. "The Volkov ain't gonna like that." _

"_Exactly." Dante grinned darkly. "Just because we have an alliance doesn't mean I have to like 'em." _

"_But Boss! You have a scheduled meeting with your American contacts. And the paperwork!" Walter was still uselessly attempting to get Dante to attend to some of his detested desk duties. _

_Big mistake as the heavy footsteps stopped abruptly. Dante's face was now in shadow as he cocked his head slightly. "Listen up, and listen well. I'm going to go by myself to assess Yoshi. Expect me back by tomorrow at the latest." The Mafia Boss paused for added effect. "Do any of you…__**have a problem with that?**__" _

_There was a sullen silence. All Mafioso present averted their eyes, abashed. Adelardi massaged his temples. "I'll get the private jet ready." _

_So that was that – Dante made his way to Namimori, Japan and found himself staring at one of the weirdest things he had ever seen in his long and fruitful life. Damn. Yoshi was a kid. How old was he, seven? Reminded you of some kind of cute toy. Hardly noteworthy mafia-material. _

_And yet this was the person that almost single-handedly put a stop to a Mafia War. Maybe he should be keeping an even closer eye on the approaching generation when it came to recruitment, especially if it meant promising persons were wrapped in such inconspicuous packages. _

_Mikhail (that Russian brat) was glomping the boy, and didn't look like he was willing to let go anytime soon, for anything less than divine intervention. Either that or the crowbar. Dante felt a sliver of pity in his toughened heart, and went about disrupting the _touching_ scene. Best put the kid out of his misery. "I take it you're Yoshi then?" _

_The small brown-haired brat stopped squirming from his position in the arms of the King of Hearts as Mikhail gently put the boy down and turned around, one of his hands hovering near the pocket that housed his lethal deck of cards. "Acerbi," the teen said curtly, eyes cool._

"_Volkov." _

_Both had a staring showdown, which was broken up when a large muscular hand slapped down on Yoshi's shoulder as he tried to discreetly slip away. Dante stared down fixedly. "Don't even try to sneak off kid. This involves you." _

"_I have no idea what you're talking about," the boy said, face blank (with fear or shock, he wasn't sure). "But I don't know you, and he," Yoshi points to Mikhail, "is a pervert." _

_Mikhail spluttered ("Am not!"), and Dante can't help letting out a rough bark of laughter. "Listen Yoshi, the 'pervert' tracked you down. No point denying it."_

_He was lazily attentive to the myriad of emotions crossing the kid's face, before Yoshi's head bent in defeat. "I hate Murphy's Law." _

_Dante grinned devilishly. "You're shorter than I expected." _

"_Yeah, I get that a lot." Yoshi scuffed a shoe in the dirt distractedly. _

"_Huh. Well, no matter." And with that, Dante swung Yoshi into the air like a lightweight plushie. The kid's eyes widened comically as he found himself hoisted over a broad shoulder. "Hey, what are you doing?" _

_Dante trudged off nonchalantly. "You're joining my Mafia Family."_

"_WHAT? I got here first, Yoshi's MINE!" Ah, he'd almost forgotten about the Volkov brat in his plans to get the kid back to Italy. The mafia wasn't exactly the most appropriate place for a growing child (though it certainly wouldn't be the first time), and Yoshi more than likely had worried parents that could alert the authorities. _

_Maybe he should have gotten some of his people from the Welfare Unit to smooth things over? Or he could always induct Yoshi into the Acerbi when he was a teenager, and better prepared for a life of crime. _

_Things were shaping up to be interesting in the long run. Dante cackled wildly as the bright and impossible future loomed ahead promisingly._

_Yoshi shrieked "WHERE ARE YOU ALL COMING FROM?"_

* * *

**The Mafia Wants You!  
**By swordsmagician

Target 003: Life is Just a Game ~

Tsuna yawned as he eased the bathroom tap open and splashed his face with cold water to wake him up. It was early, or earlier than usual, which happily meant he was able to miss out Reborn and his 'Secret Vongola Awakening Technique'.

Nonetheless, he was still shot at. Blindly reaching for the towel next to him, he vigorously dried his face, only pausing in his routine to stare back at his reflection in the mirror. A childish face stared back, all big eyes and crazy brown hair. He had definitely inherited his mother's looks, though his hair's general gravity-defying self could probably be traced back from Iemitsu's side. Giotto and Tsuna were eerily alike, albeit Vongola Primo was a blonde.

Tsuna's attention strayed from the mirror to his hands still clutching the towel. He slowly opened one, palm up. The skin on his palm had a pale pink tinge, a little raw from his stint with stifling dynamite fuses barehanded. He had been _such_ an idiot.

He bent down and shuffled around in the bathroom cabinet, pulled out his first aid kit that was shoved to the back behind some hair products. He opened the box and calmly went about applying some of the burn salve to his hands.

The herbal ointment was a remedy Tsuna swore by, as his hands had been red from yesterday's events and now were recovering nicely. He had kept them shoved in his pockets for most of yesterday afternoon so well-meaning friends and mothers wouldn't have seen the irritated skin.

He still wasn't completely off the hook, as was obvious from his daily commute to school. Tsuna walked calmly down the street feigning innocence, as Hana's eyes continued to flicker towards him every now and again, assessing and taking note.

"Soooo…Anything interesting happen yesterday? Anything? At all?"

He wasn't terribly shocked when Hana 'just happened' to meet him along his route to school. Despite the fact they had to take completely different ways to get there. And that she lived in the opposite direction of his place. "You know," he spoke dully, "you're not exactly being subtle."

That didn't stop Hana from gently prodding for info. "Aw, come on. Something happened yesterday. Something BIG. And there's no way Gokudera's going to spill. Aren't you going to divulge?"

"Nice try," Tsuna deadpanned, "but I'm saying nothing."

Hana just shrugged as she walked alongside him. "I thought you'd say that. Looks like I'll just have to draw my own conclusions."

Tsuna quirked an eyebrow.

Hana got _real close_ to him, one eyebrow raised harmlessly. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe you're secretly royalty and the heir to some foreign country and Gokudera's your loyal subject. He was converted to a believer when you proved your claim to the throne, and you're actually a _prince_."

"Y-you've gotta be kidding me." _Though insert foreign country with mafia, and that _is_ the gist of it._ "Surprising as it may be, my life is not some kind of Japanese drama, Hana-san."

"I know, to my everlasting shame." Hana sighed theatrically. "There would be more hot bishies otherwise, and sadly all the boys in our year are monkeys. Present company excluded."

Tsuna waved a hand to show he wasn't offended. There was a comfortable bout of silence as Hana thought back on Gokudera's attitude change to her friend.

_It definitely had something to do with the explosions. Gokudera hails Tsuna like some he's some kind of messiah…didn't he call him Boss? No, he called him Juudaime. What is up with that? What's Tsuna the Tenth of? The whole royalty thing was a joke, but I'm seriously missing something here…_ Hana's mouth widened into an impish smirk. Gokudera's newfound adulation was kind of sweet. And maybe a tad obsessive. She couldn't help declaring, completely straight-faced, "Congratulations Tsuna, you officially have a bitch."

Tsuna almost face-faulted. "Hana-san, not funny! And please don't make such false, creepy claims." _I need new friends._

* * *

Nezu-sensei had been the previous teacher of Class 1A. Middle aged, tedious in speech and forever droning on about his credentials from Tokyo University, Tsuna had, along with his classmates, loathed the man.

Not only would he condemn Tsuna's mathematical abilities (or lack thereof) it was worse when the teacher set out to systematically destroy struggling students with a few well-placed words. Tsuna was painfully aware that he utterly failed at maths, but wasn't distressed that Nezu-sensei thought he was a complete fool, and could ignore the words easily. On the other hand, most of his classmates who suffered under Nezu-sensei's passed judgement became disheartened. Some spiralled downwards with failing streaks. And the school wasn't prepared to do anything about it, not when it was so hard getting a teacher with such a first-rate instruction to teach the students at Namimori.

And to think that the guy had his sights set on the Principal position? If this was the future of education, upcoming generations were doomed.

Once, after a particularly harrowing day, Tsuna tossed caution into the wind and hacked into Tokyo U's records to see just how stellar Nezu's grades were. He felt that there must have been SOME shred of justice in the world when he eventually unearthed the truth. Turns out Nezu had a family friend working in the University's administration, and his fake TokyoU degree was actually a standard local uni degree (one with terrible marks). Oh the hypocrisy.

Class 1A threw a party when, with little ceremony, Nezu-sensei was sacked for fraud.*

So as Gokudera turned up for class twenty minutes after the morning bell, the forgetful Matsu-sensei didn't pause in handing back test papers as he cheerfully waved Gokudera over to his seat.

Students talked and gossiped as their results came back, some giving various shouts of glee or despair. Gokudera slung himself into his chair, face uninterested, before lighting up as he turned to Tsuna. "Good morning Juudaime!" This was accompanied by a small bow.

Unwittingly, Tsuna smiled in return, though he found the bow unexpected. "Morning Gokudera-san." It was a silent stalemate of sorts. General politeness and years of ingrained courtesy had Tsuna using the suffix. Gokudera was refusing to call him anything but the Tenth.

("Gokudera-san, there's no need to call me that. Especially in public."

"I'm sorry, but the Juudaime is the Juudaime."

"R-really-"

"**Juudaime** is _**the Juudaime**_**.**")

Tsuna prayed no one would find this too weird, and then went back to inspecting his test score. 72 – could be worse. He liked science, but the stuff he found exciting wasn't really taught in middle school. Like the use of gigantic magnets to suspend a mobster from a construction site crane in New York.

Good times.

"Juudaime, how was the exam?"

"It was alright. How about you, Gokudera-san?"

Gokudera beamed at the question, raising the test paper to show him. "This stuff is pretty easy."

Tsuna peered at the bold 100 marked in red. "Woah, you're a genius." And then he sweatdropped as Gokudera flushed at the praise and began spouting things like, "Juudaime, you're too kind!"

Really, after getting past the whole 'kill you!' phase, Gokudera wasn't that bad. Still, the look of respect and sheer adoration pervading from him unnerved Tsuna.

_

* * *

_

Namimori Middle School

_Sports Field _

The sky was a bright blue, with wispy clouds floated overhead. It was ideal weather for outdoors activities. Too bad Tsuna disliked PE. Playing games with friends was one thing; competitive physical education was another matter entirely.

Tsuna didn't shine or utterly fail in this course. He was just… average. Perhaps he would do better if he bothered to expend effort, but it was easier this way, and he wasn't concerned. He had enough on his plate with life alone, thanks very much.

Like being next in line to a mafia empire. That kinda sucked.

Gokudera was absent (resupplying his dynamite) so things felt quieter already. Soon enough, all the students were sorted out into two teams, and Tsuna found himself standing next to Yamamoto Takeshi, the baseball team's freshman starter.

If anyone had everyone's full trust and respect, it was Yamamoto. He was a nice guy, always optimistic, but lately there was a kind of preoccupied air about him today. Tsuna wondered what Yamamoto was thinking about, before brushing it off as none of his business.

Thwack!

"Nice one Yamamoto!"

"Hail Baseball Freak!"

"Kyaa! Yamamoto-kun!"

Yamamoto obviously shone at this sport, and Tsuna could appreciate that kind of dedication to the game. The brunette himself played well enough, although the baseball bat felt too light in his hands. He still managed to hit the ball and run to the first base, which now meant all three bases were full. Then Yamamoto stepped up to the plate and swung _hard_, propelling the ball with enough force for a home run. Tsuna, Yamamoto and the other two boys immediately started running, while the fielders groaned as they went to fetch the errant ball.

Meanwhile, atop Water Tower No. 9, Reborn sat with a pair of binoculars clutched in his small hands. "Yamamoto Takeshi…his athleticism and popularity are needed in the family…"

Leon's tongue jabbed out and caught a wayward fly. The sound of crunching accompanied Reborn's considerations.

With Yamamoto, their group (naturally) won, and the cheerful teen was regaled with pats on the back and praises from his teammates. As usual, he laughed them off. "Hah, it's nothing! I think I'll stay behind today and sweep the field, you guys go on ahead." He brushed off the many offers to help. "I need to meditate on something."

Their classmates loitered around, before shrugging and eventually walking off, not really wanting to tidy up after PE anyway. Tsuna on the other hand stayed back, head tilted to one side; paying close attention to the way Yamamoto's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He casually picked up one forgotten broom propped up against the fence.

Yamamoto looked up as a second broom joined his. "Oh, Tsuna."

"Two brooms will be quicker," Tsuna remarked, his brush making even strokes on the ground. Yamamoto looked surprised, but said nothing. The two continued quietly, and it was a few minutes before the baseball player said, "You're pretty silent Tsuna. Something on your mind?"

Truthfully, Tsuna was thinking the very same thing about Yamamoto; he just didn't want to pry. "I guess. You?"

"Well…" Yamamoto mulled over his words, before saying out of the blue, "There's something I want your opinion on."

_Really?_ "You… want my opinion?" He and Yamamoto had never really interacted much. Heck, this was probably the first long-standing conversation they had. Why ask someone you barely knew?

But sometimes people wanted an outside opinion from someone they weren't familiar or close to. "Yeah." Yamamoto continued sweeping rhythmically. "I know we don't normally talk much, but from what I can see, you're a quiet guy that's always able to deal with what comes at you. I mean, you didn't seem too fazed by Nezu-sensei's fraud charges, even though everyone was hoping they were true. As for me, well, I just play baseball like it's all I know."

"You do excel at it," Tsuna said, wondering where this was heading.

A hand clenched the broomstick tightly. "Eh, it's not going so well…"

"No?" Tsuna leaned on his broom, watching his classmate's despondency.

Yamamoto sighed as he stopped sweeping. "Lately, no matter how much I practice, my average is dropping and my fielding is screwing up. At this rate, it'll be the first time I don't start since I began playing baseball."

He wasn't an expert on baseball, but he knew people that were into sports. Wasn't Vance's brother also a baseball nut? Football players could also experience a decrease in proficiency. "So, you're going through a slump phase?" Tsuna worded carefully as he raised a hand to his chin in thought.

Yamamoto nodded. "Tsuna…what should I do?" His face was dead serious, the most solemn he had ever seen it in, ever.

Tsuna blinked owlishly. "You're asking me?"

A smile graced Yamamoto's face. "Just kidding! I know this came out of nowhere, but you're a good listener. Any piece of wisdom or good advice you can share?"

Tsuna smiled, but it was one with a touch of grim humour. "Well, I've been told that advice is a dangerous thing to give." Tsuna twisted the broom in his hands idly. "I could tell you, with my nonexistent professional baseball opinion, that all athletes go through this kind of thing all the time, and many have risen above it to forge successful careers. But I'd also tell you that each athlete works differently. If I wanted to help you out of your slump, I wouldn't know where to start."

"Eh, I guess you're right."

Tsuna shook hid head at his classmate's moroseness. "Listen Yamamoto-san, the only guy who knows the limits of your body is yourself. I guess I can't really help you except offer support and encouragement like anyone else. What were you planning on doing?"

Yamamoto stretched slightly, looking up at that unbelievably blue sky, before turning to Tsuna and giving him one of his more familiar grins. "Truthfully, I was planning on staying here and practising like hell!"

"Yeah?" Tsuna beamed at Yamamoto's fast returning enthusiasm. "If that's what you want to do, then go for it! You're always so confident and positive; I think you can accomplish anything if you put your mind to it." Inwardly Tsuna felt a bit self-conscious. _Since when did I give pep talks? Now I'm starting to feel like a psychiatrist._

But Yamamoto looked like he needed to hear it, and it was working. "A little more effort can go a long way, so maybe I'll be able to overcome my declining skills. I can agree with that. "

Still, Tsuna had a nagging feeling that something was off. "Just take care, ok? Hellish training might work for you, but you also have to look out for yourself."

Yamamoto slung an arm around Tsuna. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine! And thanks for the encouragement. I think I needed to hear that."

Tsuna was still considering the Strange Event of the Day at home when Reborn looked up from where he was polishing one of his guns. "So, anything interesting happen today?"

Why was everyone so inquisitive? "People seem to be awfully concerned about my life," Tsuna muttered from his gaming console. With all of the madness Reborn had brought with him, he hadn't been able to go on his usual game servers, so he was making up for lost time.

"Hm," Reborn continued blithely, "about that Yamamoto."

"Why you do ask if you know everything already. Aren't (_unwilling_!) potential mafia heirs entitled to a little privacy?"

"Make him your subordinate."

"Heck no!" As usual, Reborn ignored him, the asshole. Tsuna glared at him unenthusiastically. "No turning classmates into mafia members! And in case you haven't realised, baseball is his passion. Do you really think I'd willingly want to bring Yamamoto into this? I don't try to get people killed!"

"If you approached your position as the next Boss with the same passion Yamamoto has for baseball, then you could become a great leader." Reborn picked up a long nozzle, waving it in Tsuna's general direction. "Maybe I should help bring out the burning desire deep inside you so you shine with a fire from within."

Tsuna sweatdropped as he slowly placed aside the console in his hands. "Now Reborn, just put down the flamethrower…"

* * *

The next day was conventional. Morning bell, lessons, cries of Juudaime…

Alright, maybe not so much. Midway through class, Tsuna suddenly just up and left, running out of the room with no given explanation whatsoever. Kyoko stared at the now-closed door, then her friend's empty desk. He had looked uneasy today. Was he sick?

"What on earth is wrong with Sawada-kun?"

"I don't think he's been feeling very well," Kyoko confided to the teacher, who made a note of it on the roll call list.

Gokudera was instantly troubled. "I should check up on him!" He stood up to make for the door, or would have if Hana hadn't caught hold of his shirt and hauled him back down to his seat.

"You can ask later, leave Tsuna be," she hissed. That didn't stop Hana shaking her head to herself in irritation. It was like the more she knew Tsuna, the less she understood him.

Gokudera just growled, dissatisfied at being forced to stay in class when the Tenth might require his assistance.

In the meantime, regardless of personal safety and the Disciplinary Committee, Tsuna was running down corridors, instincts screaming at him to _hurry up_. With classes in motion, the hallways were fortunately empty, and no Disciplinary officers looked to be patrolling these particular hallways.

For some reason his feet were leading him towards the school roof. Tsuna took to the steps two at a time, and burst open through the door with a slight stumble. Yamamoto turned around from his position next to the fence. "Tsuna, what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Tsuna gasped. "Y-your arm!"

"Oh, yeah," Yamamoto looked down bitterly at his arm cocooned in its sling. "When I stayed after school to practice yesterday, I guess I went too far."

Tsuna did not like this. He did not like this at all. "You don't mean…"

"Now that the Baseball God threw me away, I have nothing left." Yamamoto was now facing Tsuna, face uncommonly serious once again. "I don't know how you knew I would be here, but if you came to stop me it's no use." Yamamoto shook his head as his uninjured arm ruffled his hair carelessly. "You wouldn't be able to understand my feelings of preferring to die over failing at everything."

Tsuna went rigid at that. "I… wouldn't, would I?" he muttered quietly.

Yamamoto's forehead creased as he turned back to his classmate.

"Yamamoto-san,' Tsuna continued, his voice still odd, "maybe I _don't_ understand. Saying that you're so frustrated that you want to die, or you see no reason to live because of a career-ending accident… so you're saying that unlike you, I've never had those kinds of intense thoughts?"

The injured boy was perplexed at what the other was getting at. He hadn't really meant to phrase it that way, but Tsuna wasn't an athlete, so technically he _wouldn't_ comprehend Yamamoto's decision.

Tsuna was absent-mindedly rubbing his left arm, just above the elbow. "Honestly, I don't know you very well. But it works both ways; you don't know me very well either." Tsuna lifted his head, and Yamamoto was vaguely aware that he had never seen his classmate as deceptively _angry_ as this. "And let me tell you something: Ending your life right now would be so easy, wouldn't it? _But life isn't easy_."

His voice rose. "It's not particularly fair either. But jumping off a building would only mean avoiding the problem, right? Someone told me recently that they admired how I dealt with what life threw at me. The Yamamoto I respected was not someone who was _cowardly_ enough to throw his very existence away for a broken arm! He wouldn't be so _arrogant_ to think that he's the first athlete to have an injury that could ruin his life! No, Yamamoto Takeshi would be able to learn and rise above it, laugh at what life threw at him, get back to the sport he loves when his arm heals, and then flip the Baseball God the _bird_ in retaliation!"

Yamamoto's jaw dropped comically, his expression openly showing his astonishment.

Tsuna took a deep breath. "And if you _still_ want to take the final step, past that fence and straight down however many metres, you're not the guy I thought you were. A broken arm isn't worth your life."

They stood there, Yamamoto feeling overwhelmed when confronted by Tsuna's glowering visage. The baseball player felt… strange, as he exhaled loudly and broke off eye contact first. "Well, when you put it that way…" Yamamoto turned back to the fence, and the wide expanse beyond it. "Heh, I was willing to die today, but now I'm not so sure."

Preoccupied, he was about to lean a hand on the fence and continue speaking, before his eyes suddenly rolled in the back of his head and -

_THUMP!_

-Yamamoto keeled over backwards.

Tsuna removed a hand from his watch. The timepiece looked normal looking enough, except for the fact it had just shot a tranquiliser dart and effectively knocked out the baseball player.#

"Sorry Yamamoto-san, but the fence is rusty. Can't have you accidentally falling to your death, not when I've just managed to convince you of your stupidity." Tsuna grasped the boy by the arms (mindful of the fractured one) and started dragging him, at least until he managed to get Yamamoto to lean onto his smaller figure. Summoning up his strength, he slowly carried his classmate along with him towards the exit. "The things I do…" Tsuna grumbled sadly.

* * *

The world felt fuzzy, and his arm ached uncomfortably. Yamamoto opened his eyes blearily, lifting his left arm to rub at them. The last thing he remembered was being on the school roof, talking to Tsuna. Why was he in what looked like the nurse's office?

He groaned a little, pushing himself up while cradling his arm with the cast, and took a better look at where he was. The sling for his broken arm was folded neatly on the table, next to a short brown-haired boy perched on the chair at his bedside. "Feeling better?"

"Much," he admitted, scratching his head. Tsuna grinned, and Yamamoto couldn't help doing so right back, at least before he looked around puzzled. "By the way, when did we come to the nurse's office?"

He watched Tsuna's forehead furrow. "Well, you kind of… collapsed on the school roof, so we both came down here. You slept for a while; obviously someone was under a lot of stress."

Yamamoto was more focused on how he got here than why. "Did you _carry_ me all the way to the Infirmary?" he asked, taken aback.

"How am I supposed to do that? You'd be too heavy for me." Tsuna was speaking rationally, but Yamamoto was sceptical. The last two days had been very eye-opening, no doubt about that.

He wasn't really sure what had possessed him to open up to Tsuna yesterday. It was hard to describe it – his classmate had been there, and had been the perfect listener – nonjudgmental, helpful, understanding. And staring at him with big eyes of unquestioning goodwill, Yamamoto's mouth had automatically begun to confide his inner uncertainty.

Tsuna had been just another guy in class. He didn't stand out in sports or in his studies. He wasn't very popular. He was just _there_. It made Yamamoto feel ashamed that he had taken Tsuna's presence for granted, given what had just happened. "Hey Tsuna. Back there, you were amazing."

This time Tsuna broke eye contact first as he shook his head, disconcerted. "I'm not _that_ amazing."

Didn't this guy accept any praise? Tsuna had pretty much talked him out of a suicide attempt. Yamamoto just gave him his signature smile. "No, really! Thanks for what you did." He then became sheepish. "I don't know what I was thinking. Nothing good comes from my idiocy."

"No worries," Tsuna was quick to reassure him. "So long as your arm gets better, it's really no trouble. And anyway, you're too nice to become the poster child for teenage angst."

Yamamoto couldn't help chuckling at this. "You're so weird…in a good way of course."

"Ah, I was going to say the very same thing." They both laughed until Tsuna visibly started as he remembered something. "This is for you," Tsuna lifted up the plastic bag at his feet and presented it. "After yesterday, your questions got me thinking…"

Curiosity piqued, Yamamoto confusedly accepted it and stole a look inside. It was full of files, as well as a book or two and a couple of videos. He shoved his uninjured left hand in and pulled out a few of the folders. "What's this?" he flipped one open.

After his head got around what he was holding in his hands, Yamamoto's brain shut down from sheer disbelief.

"It's some baseball stuff I dug up from a friend of mine living in America," Tsuna explained while examining one of the diagrams. "His older brother's into baseball, so I asked if they had anything that could help you. He's on vacation in Osaka, so I received the stuff only this morning.

Yamamoto's open jaw clicked shut. "Tsuna, these are notes on _strategic manoeuvres and tactics from professional baseball teams._ I mean, look at this stuff – The New York Yankees, the Boston Red Sox, the Cincinnati Reds…" Yamamoto grasped another file simply titled '_NPB'_. "The Seibu Lions, the Hanshin Tigers; heck, there's even stuff here on Sadaharu Oh and the Yomiuri Giants!" He was openly gawping with each name. "You can't just find this kind of information on the Internet. How on earth did you get them?"

"Like I said, my friend's also keen on baseball. Though I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone," Tsuna flushed as he held out the bag, "considering I'd possibly get arrested. So, keep it on the downlow."

Bemused, Yamamoto carefully placed the folders inside the bag again. He was already itching to rush home and delve into them more thoroughly. "Thanks," he said sincerely.

Tsuna smiled politely, but his eyes were mischievous as he leant forward and asked, "I trust you'll spend more time with these then your school books?"

Yamamoto laughed loudly. "Without a doubt!"

"Then you can study these later." Tsuna scratched his head awkwardly, and Yamamoto was about to ask something else, but he paused, thoughts interrupted by the gradually increasing sound of thundering footsteps and a steadily growing cry of "JUUUUUUUUUUUDAIME~!"

Yamamoto frowned. "What is that?"

"Uh oh…" Tsuna stood up as the rumbling noise increased. The racket stopped as abruptly as it had started when the Infirmary door literally exploded open and the two boys were welcomed by the sight of a panicked Hayato Gokudera.

Yamamoto blinked. "Gokudera, right?" Insert happy smile. "What brings you here?"

"Shut up Baseball Freak!" Gokudera snarled, as he made a beeline for Tsuna and tightly clasped the smaller boy's hands with his own. "Juudaime, are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you Gokudera-san." Tsuna smiled weakly as he tried (and failed) to make Gokudera let go. "Um, was there anything you wanted?"

"Just worried! I'm glad you're okay – Kurokawa wouldn't let me leave class to check earlier."

"Oh, right." _Thank you Hana._

"As if schoolwork is more important than the Boss's health! Are you feeling any nausea? Do you have a fever?" Gokudera immediately checked Tsuna's forehead with his own to compare temperatures, causing Tsuna to lean back from the close proximity of his friend. "Maybe you should lie down!"

Yamamoto watched the two of them interact, (he feels like he's missing out on some inside joke) and can't help commenting, "Tsuna, nice nickname! Should I call you Juudaime too?"

Gokudera pointed an accusing finger at him. "Hey, that's my boss! Go find your own!"

* * *

…And so Tsuna found himself another close friend. Of course, Reborn didn't see it that way. _Family acquired. _

The hitman smirked as he made his way back to the Sawada household. This was too easy. He didn't even need to _do_ anything. But Family members aside, he'd use this tutoring post to see exactly what Tsunayoshi was capable of. And he was looking forward to learning more about his cute little student and what skills he might be hiding.

Reborn's smirk only grew larger as he schemed. "Tsuna-Who, just wait till I show you the Vongola's special bullets. You may not need them, but your reaction will be well worth the experience."

The prey in question stopped what he was currently doing. _What is this feeling of dread?_

* * *

~ …Unfortunately there is no 'last save' checkpoint.

* - All it had taken was a couple of phone calls and some documents anonymously sent to the Namimori School Principal. Tsuna wasn't heartless enough to even bother finding a way to sic Hibari on the man.

# - As a self-contained child and fan of various manga and anime, Tsuna had been only too happy to construct a watch for himself much like that of Edogawa Conan from _Detective Conan, Case Closed!_ It rendered people unconscious, had a voice recorder, and could also tell the time^.

^ - and you never knew when paralysing someone would come in handy.

* * *

Anonymous Reviews Corner:

**Winster:** Thanks for your review for the first chapter! I hope you're enjoying all this so far!

**Scythe:** You've actually reviewed both chapters! Thank you so much. On Hana, I love her too. She's a bit like a less violent, more conniving, female version of Hibari. And I'm content you found chapter 2 funny. The Volkov are my own original characters, so it's nice too see they've been accepted into my AU KHR-verse.

You'll continue to find out how Tsuna fends off recruitment and Mafioso offers. As for Mikhail, he may be in a world of pain if he tries glomping Tsuna when Gokudera's around. It will be cool to see a clash, I wondered if I should write something like that when I first introduced Mikhail XD. Maybe even add in the other guardians and Reborn just to see what happens?

**PetiteMort:** Thank you for the LOVE! Scheming!Tsuna is available at specific fanfics, please enjoy responsibly.

**you know who I am: **Yes, I do know who you are! And I was surprised you read this fic, given it's not one of your usual fandom. Still, I was happy. Shame on you for not eating lamb; that is Un-Australian! Just kidding ;)

**Rae37:** I will love to continue these updates! Stay tuned!

**phppsmss:** I appreciate the feedback, thanks. I'm pleased you yourself (and others) find my version of Tsuna cool, as I did find the Dying Will Bullet a bit repetitive. There are others ways to figure out problems rather than tackling them head on in your boxers (thank god for that!)

**green-road:** Obviously I continued with this story, so I hope you liked the third chapter :)

**InsanityRulz:** Hah, smart!Tsuna for the win! May you carry on reading!

**Hailey:** Aw, deeper layer in their characters and nice interaction? Like I've mentioned earlier, I'm so happy people like my take on KHR. And I know the depression of good fanfics stopping before their completion – there are some that haven't updated in YEARS, or sudden deleting, which is a shame. I'm not planning that anytime soon, thank goodness. I mean, I've barely started TMWY!

* * *

Author's Note:

Introducing Yamamoto Takeshi! Everyone's favourite baseballer/born hitman comes onto the field! :D

This chapter was a little more serious than the previous two, because I felt it would be insensitive to inject more humour into the situation, what with whole the suicide attempt. At least Tsuna got to talk some sense into Yamamoto.

I also have a feeling that my writing style's a little off…or is that just me? Postmodernism might have warped my brain. Hurray for Post-Exams Stress Disorder…

On another note, deviations from the original storyline are damn fun to write. Not to mention, they make the story that bit more interesting, to me at least. Some original stuff, AUs and all that. Hope you've enjoyed the snippet with Dante, who has pushed Mikhail to one side in the hopes that Tsuna will realised the awesomeness that is the Acerbi. Yeah right, Tsuna's not interested.

Many thanks to all review/faves/story alerts!


	4. The Dying Will Bullet

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

_

* * *

_

Tsuna pulled up the hood of his jacket to help obscure his face. He'd been told (like most young children) not to talk to strangers, yet here he found himself at one of the more expensive restaurants in Namimori. The hulking man that he had identified as Dante proceeded to glare at the owner of the establishment until said man had become a quivering mass of flesh, before the trio were led to a private table/open side room where they could talk undisturbed.

_Not that many would bother to listen in on their conversation. Up to this point, all three of them had been conversing in English rather than Japanese, which cemented the idea that they were all foreign. _

_Mikhail (apparently the nephew of the Volkov Boss) managed to acquire a small glass of vodka, Dante was nursing a cup of Japanese sake, and Tsuna was eyeing the tall glass of lemonade in front of him, wondering if it was poisoned. _

"_Drink up, it's not poisoned you know." _

_Tsuna returned Mikhail's coaxing smile uncertainly as he brought the drink to his lips slowly. Well, he wasn't convulsing on the floor; that had to be a good sign. He looked back to the man and teen in front of him. He hadn't expected the Volkov and Acerbi to trace him here, but Tsuna was quickly learning that when things can go wrong, they will. _

_He really should have thought through this more. The fact that the Volkov were involved meant they would have been able to find him if they put their minds to it, but Tsuna hadn't thought they would have bothered. And his original emails to both Mafia Families had been in English, a universal language that someone would have been able to understand, rather than Japanese. Shouldn't have used Yoshi as an alias… he cringed. Too late now._

_Eventually Dante put down the cup and cleared his throat. "Well then, I suppose I'd better get down to it." He unclasped the black suitcase hanging from his leather belt and clunked it on the table, pushing it towards Tsuna. "Here." _

_Tsuna stared down at the case, then back up at Dante, before warily flipping it open. The lid gave way to reveal wads of hundred dollar bills, all neatly stacked into bundles. It…was a lot of cash, especially for a kid who wasn't even legally allowed to work yet. _

"_For services rendered. While the Acerbi are notorious for loving a good fight, and we wouldn't have terribly minded pitting ourselves against the Volkov," Dante turned one dark eye to meet Mikhail's teal ones, "it could have been bothersome." _

_Tsuna's hands were already closing the case and pushing it back towards Dante. "Don't misunderstand. I didn't do it for money." _

_Mikhail raised one slim eyebrow as Dante's own furrowed. "Then why'd you do it?" _

_Tsuna tilted his head, peering at them peculiarly. He simply replied, "Because I can." _

_This obviously wasn't what the mobsters were expecting. It was Mikhail who broke the silence. "Well, if that's all," the Russian stretched exaggeratedly, before flinging an arm around Tsuna's thin shoulders, "You've heard the Acerbi's proposition earlier, now you can hear mine." _

_Tsuna had a bad feeling about this. _

"_Tell me, have you ever considered the possibility of working in organised crime?" _

"…_No. Can't say that I have." Dante snorted at Tsuna's answer. _

"_Well," Mikhail smiled cheerfully as he studiously ignored the Acerbi Boss, "the Volkov Family would be more than happy to accept you into our ranks. We are always on the lookout for promising talent, and you certainly qualify." _

_After today's events, it finally clicked in Tsuna's mind. "Wait. You want… to _recruit me?_" _

_Dante tossed the rest of the sake into his mouth. "You mean we weren't obvious enough?" _

_Mikhail curiously poked the now motionless Tsuna, who was in the quiet throes of a mental breakdown. Maybe he should have paid more attention to the common sense that said not to have anything to do with criminal syndicates. He had no one to blame but himself in these situations. "Thanks, but no thanks." _

_At this, Mikhail couldn't help flashing a playful grin. "I believe it's us that should be thanking you." The words were sincere, and Dante was eyeing him almost peacefully from across the table._

"…_Your welcome." Tsuna scratched his neck timidly. "I honestly wasn't expecting that." _

_The two mobsters across from the boy exchanged looks. Dante just _had_ to ask, "Why so?"_

_Tsuna shrugged; an easy motion of casual acceptance. "Most Mafiosi I've met personally didn't strike me as people who put much stock in manners. And it's not like there's much room for small talk and pleasantries when they're trying to stab, shoot and/or kidnap you. Know what I'm saying?" _

_Only too well; they _were_ Mafia, after all. But this kid didn't sign up for anything. What the hell had he done to make himself a target?_

_Dante and Mikhail both had an abrupt epiphany which involved tracking down assassins and freelance killers, applying a generous amount of torture, and offering their dead carcasses to Yoshi as a mark of goodwill. _

"_Listen, I'm flattered, but this isn't a good time. And, eight's a bit young when it comes to deciding my future. Out of curiosity, how much do you know about me?"_

_Mikhail straightened. "Not much, but it'll only be a matter of time." _

"…_First a pervert, now a stalker. Are _all_ you Mafiosi like this?"_

_Later, Tsuna left the restaurant alone with two business cards shoved in his pockets, 'in case you ever change your mind'. Before he had left, Mikhail could help asking, "Hey, is Yoshi even your real name?" _

_A fleeting grin flew over the young boy's face, one that encompassed good humour, a great deal of wry resignation, and some irritation. "You tell me." _

_Momentarily taken aback, both didn't move from their seats as he swiftly hurried out of the café,. Mikhail shook his head in amazement. "Cute kid. That openness of emotion isn't something you often see in our line of work, but knowing Yoshi it'll work to his advantage." _

"_Hm." Dante polished off the sake bottle. "Didn't seem too keen on the whole mafia thing. Maybe I should have just chanced it and smuggled him back to Italy." _

_Mikhail shot him a peevish look. "He's only eight. Give it time. And I doubt it'll endear you to the boy, which just means less of a chance of him working for you." The teenager replaced his sunglasses and spoke up sharply, "Did you really mean what you said? Are you willing to pit against the Volkov over this matter? Truthfully, Yoshi seems more suited towards intel than the brawls you favour." _

_Dante mulled over the words to humour Mikhail, but replied anyway. "I like the kid. Has spunk. Most brats can't come within a 15 metre radius around me without blacking out." _

_Mikhail curtly draped his jacket over one shoulder. "We have an alliance." _

"_That's why I haven't broken any of your bones yet." Dante stood up. "Now, get your ass back to Russia."_

**

* * *

**

The Mafia Wants You!

By swordsmagician

Target 004: The Dying Will Bullet

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi was thankful his son had fallen asleep on the way home from their jaunt to the hospital. It meant Takeshi would get some needed rest. It also meant he wouldn't notice the tightening of Tsuyoshi's eyes and taut body language.

Afterwards Takeshi was deposited in his room, his arm conspicuously marked among the blue blankets with its white cast, and Tsuyoshi silently sat in his chair for a few minutes. The next morning was also oddly quiet, though it's not completely unexpected, as Tsuyoshi chattered cheerfully from the kitchen and Takeshi's mere ghost of a grin surfaced. Still, Takeshi made the extra effort and his smile as he left for school was nearly genuine.

"Hey, Otou-san!"

Tsuyoshi found it difficult to mask his relief as Takeshi waltzes through the door from school with his usual smile, his _spark_, present. "Takeshi." He placed down his sushi knife and asked, "How was school?"

His son frowned a little, but then laughed as his expression cleared. "Oh, I was just my usual idiotic self."

"I see. Heard you were in the Infirmary today," Tsuyoshi remarked casually. "That arm giving you trouble?"

"It's not too bad. I just hope it heals up soon so I can get back to playing baseball!"

Tsuyoshi chuckled. "That's the spirit." _Yep, his son is back_. "And what's in the bag?"

The teen glanced down at the plain object. "Oh, Tsuna gave me some notes."

"Tsuna?"

If possible, Takeshi's warm tone became warmer. "Sawada Tsunayoshi, a friend and classmate of mine. The new transfer student Gokudera's been hanging around him a lot lately. Tsuna's a cool guy; he's even collected some baseball stuff for me. In fact," Takeshi flashed his optimistic, signature smile, "I'm gonna have a quick look through them right now, okay?"

Tsuyoshi waved a hand in dismissal. "Sure, sure." But he eyed the bag clutched to Takeshi's chest protectively, and the white cast that isn't so white anymore, not with all the scrawls and doodles from well-wishers. One in particular stood out, the rendition of a chibi-Takeshi brandishing a baseball bat like a sword. It was accompanied by the messy scrawl in black marker: _Get Well Soon! ~ Tsuna_.

Tsuyoshi's eyes creased upwards as they drew themselves away from his son's retreating form. When he was alone, he spoke aloud to the empty room, "Sawada Tsunayoshi, huh?"

_

* * *

_

Namimori, Japan

_Sawada Household _

The chibi-hitman has left the building! FREEDOM!

It was the weekend, and with Reborn's inexplicable absence, Tsuna was finally able to have a semblance of privacy. Living in the same house as the hitman tutor meant he was forever on guard. But with his mother downstairs watching a drama on TV, and Reborn out who knew where, Tsuna was able to get cracking, along with the additional benefit of the hitman not breathing down his neck while he was at it. (He also made a point to ignore the suitcase Reborn had left to one side. He wouldn't trust the thing if he touched it with a ten-foot pole. It was probably booby trapped).

So Tsuna had gone to his shelf and picked out a thick book with '_Typing for Beginners_' printed on the spine. It had been shoved in a corner, blended among a number of equally boring titles. For all intents and purposes an ordinary book, except for the fact that the pages of the book were hollowed out to make space for the small laptop securely hidden within.

It paid to have a separate PC. So there Tsuna was, with the laptop facing him, sorting through some papers and keeping up a video conversation on Skype. "I'm telling you Ru, I haven't been in a predicament that's as FOOBAR* since the time we got transported to that alternate universe a year back."

A long whistle emitted from the Chinese boy visible on screen. "Damn. That bad?"

"Well, it's shaping up to be just as mentally scarring."

"You have my condolences."

"Thanks," Tsuna said dryly.

Ru Wen and Tsuna had initiated contact in a forum on the internet, and found a common interest in things like information protocol settings and software. The two then unwittingly struck up a friendship, one that would span years of cooperation, various high jinks of dubious legality, and one particularly memorable occasion in which they first met offline while evading car bombs.

The rest, as they say, is history.

The dark-haired, dark-eyed boy hummed. "Hard to believe they've designated you as the next candidate for the Vongola title when, hypothetically, you're suppose to know nothing about it. Have Mikhail and the others gotten a hold of that piece of information?"

"I'd _really_ prefer that they didn't. They already know Reborn's here; I'm not going to enlighten them to the bigger picture. I'll just…omit the little detail of me being the heir apparent to what has been dubbed the strongest criminal empire in the world."

"Logic dictates that they'll find out eventually," Ru Wen pointed out. "Info like this always gets out, and the Volkov are self-explanatory. Others are going to _freak_."

"I know, but I'd like to let it lie for now. I don't want to be there for the reactions, and it'll be bad enough when Reborn catches on, and the Vongola. You won't tell, right?"

Ru Wen rolled his eyes. "You know I won't, my lips are sealed. I mean, Reborn…anyone with links to the Mafia has heard about him. I don't envy your pessimal situation."

Tsuna shook his head. "I wasn't expecting all – this when I got the call he was making his way to Japan. I thought, maybe my cover's been blown, or maybe it's got nothing to do with me and I'm being paranoid. But no, I've been elected to step up as the Vongola Decimo. I'm amazed the lengths some would go for this job, because it's not worth it. Seriously. I like to think that I get enough death threats as it is without tempting fate."

"Someone has it out for you," Ru Wen said agreeably. "And we both know having family members who are immersed in the Underworld comes with its own pitfalls."

"Amen to that." Tsuna placed a few loose sketches marked 'Robotic Designs?' into his black notebook. "How's the side-project going? Still researching the wonders of nanotechnology and renewable energy?"

"You know it. I was thinking about splurging on some new equipment in the electronics district here in Shanghai."

"Sounds good. Your mother's bargaining skills are legendary." Tsuna's voice became contemplative. "And you never bought the stuff before?"

A shrug from Ru Wen. "I'm cheap and Asian."

"There is that." Tsuna purposefully closed his black book and stowed it safely away as he asked, "Everything okay on your front?"

"Tsu, I didn't go online to talk about me; we're here to talk about _you_. So how've you been holding up?"

Tsuna grimaced at his friend's commitment to the topic. "Pretty well considering the circumstances. I just was caught unawares is all." He scratched his cheek with a stray finger. "Let's be honest, I became complacent. Thought I could keep ahead of the mob…Things were looking good, I guess I should have expected something like this sooner."

Ru Wen frowned. "What was the theory on you being put forward for succession anyway? We both know about Enrico…and Massimo..._and _Federico..."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the Vongola know little of my 'extracurricular activities', so I'm assuming they've ran out of options and I'm a last resort."

Ru Wen's frown morphed into a proper glare at the indignity. "_Last resort_? Trust me when I say they should be honoured they've got you for an heir. In fact, I'm not surprised if a few other Families are willing to fight them for you."

_Oh _god_ I hope not. _"Please don't jinx it," Tsuna begged. "It was bad enough with all the other recruitment offers, but this one's worse. I mean, my _dad_ works for the Vongola!"

"Must be in the blood. But you, as the final choice? I'll have to be offended for you."

"Hey, it's not like I wanted the gig in the first place. Besides, I'm aware that the majority of the Vongola had their sights set on the Ninth's son. Apparently he headed the elite assassination squad, and I've had a look at their files, but information on him is pretty sketchy." Tsuna pulled a face. "Not sure why he isn't next in line. I'll have to do more investigating."

"Oh dear." Ru Wen murmured. "The Varia, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Tsuna flushed pink as Ru Wen burst out laughing. "Shut up, it's not funny!"

"I know, mortal peril and all that, but the irony!" Ru Wen's face momentarily disappeared as the Japanese teen was left with the image of a pair of shoulders shaking hysterically.

"Oh sure, go ahead and laugh," Tsuna scoffed. "It's all _very_ hilarious. In any case, my life is ironic enough even without the Varia connection."

Ru Wen's laughter quickly subsided. "Sorry, but irony loves you. How are the attempts to thwarting Reborn?"

"Mixed results. I already have two friends roped into my Famiglia thanks to his machinations. Now I'm just left wondering when this Xanxus will try to kill me." Tsuna sighed, hand idly tapping his left arm. Ru Wen noticed this action, and his eyes narrowed, but he ignored the motion, and instead he opted to comment, "Reborn hasn't bugged the place, has he?"

"No, I did a sweep of the entire house – it's clean. I wouldn't put it past Reborn to bug the place, so I've been doing routine scans. He probably doesn't need them, not when he's living here where he can keep me under constant surveillance, but…"

"It isn't paranoia when they're really out to get you," Ru Wen finished. "But regardless of the insanity, can you promise me one thing?"

"What?" Tsuna asked.

"When everything's said and done, you have to introduce me to your Family."

"…Ru, I'm expressly against having a Mafia Famiglia and leading a criminal syndicate."

The Chinese boy shrugged. "Tsu, I have to meet the people that may be tasked with your wellbeing. If you're going to have someone watching your back, they'd better be good."

"Well, when you put it like that-"

"Besides, you always meet the most interesting people. And just wait till I tell them about the time you infiltrated that all-girls school-"

Tsuna gasped. "Ru Wen! You swore you'd never mention that! _Ever_!"

After more witty banter, Tsuna would end the conversation in much better spirits. And Ru Wen, only son to the head of the Yang Chinese Triad, would sit immovably in his room, and spend a great deal of time turning the latest development over in his head. But that's another story.

* * *

Tsuna was reading through one of his translated novels when the door to his room opened. "Oh, Reborn-san, you're back," he said distractedly, still immersed in the text.

"Hello." Hold on. Since when did Reborn's voice take on the pitch and melody of a teenage girl? He was currently too young to go through puberty, even if that talk of de-ageing… Tsuna spun around, gaped, and managed to stutter out, "K-Kyoko-san?"

"Hi, Tsuna-kun!" Kyoko smiled from the doorway. "I was surprised when Reborn-chan led me to your house. Can I come in?"

Tsuna quickly stood up to let her into the room properly. "Sorry, I was just surprised! What's up?"

Reborn answered that. "I asked her to come over so I could return her money."

"Is that so?" Truthfully, Tsuna was expecting something more along the lines of embezzlement and fraud from Reborn, given the track record of the mafia. What on earth did he need to buy that required the hitman to borrow cash? Shouldn't Reborn be loaded?

"Yeah, I went to a coffee shop today, but I forgot my wallet, and the lady at the counter wouldn't let me get my espresso on credit." _Well, that explains it. But come on, a baby walks in and tries to buy coffee with a credit card? I'm not surprised if the lady was held at gunpoint_… (The barista had no idea what trauma she'd narrowly missed).

"She tried to take me to the police station, but Kyoko came up and offered to pay for me." Reborn turned around and handed over some bills to Kyoko. "Thanks for that."

"It's no problem." Kyoko was staring around at his room now, and Tsuna was somewhat glad he had cleaned up the place a bit. After Reborn's appearance, the ordered chaos had been forced to morph into a more acceptable state, and because Tsuna didn't want Reborn snooping around in his stuff.

"It's funny, but I've never seen your room before." Kyoko's gaze shifted curiously to the book that lay abandoned on the floor where Tsuna had dropped it. "Oh, what are you reading?"

Tsuna held it up to show her the cover depicting scaly winged beasts curled around a red castle. "I'm rereading this fantasy series I was recommended ages ago. It's really good."

"'Deltora Quest'?" Kyoko brightened up even more. "Oh, it's by that Australian author Emily Rodda, right?"

Tsuna smiled. "Yep! There's actually an anime series being made right here in Japan."

"I know, isn't it amazing? Jasmine is my favourite character, and Filli is so cute! Don't you love the action and the magic?"

"Of course, but I also enjoy all the puzzles the author put in, I find it really makes everything so interesting."

Reborn just watched the two happily chat away, at least until Nana walked in with refreshments. "Oh, Kyoko-san! Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, thank you Sawada-san. And thanks for having me." Kyoko bowed politely.

Nana placed her load on the table, inwardly glad that Tsuna was being a bit more companionable. _And he's friends with such a cute girl from school!_ She cheered. Her son had always been a bit withdrawn as a child, which worried her sometimes; it was nice to see him making more of an effort to be sociable with his schoolmates.

But while mothers can often be quite proud of their progeny, most don't exactly boast about their child's accomplishments, especially in front of the kids in question. Sawada Nana was no different. "Don't you find it demanding being friends with my son? Tsuna, you really should follow Kyoko-chan's example and get more involved, have a little ambition. Isn't she on the school committee?"

"'Kaa-san, really," Tsuna flushed slightly, not noticing Kyoko's face become embarrassed, or her feeble murmurs of "No, ehrm…"

Of course, Reborn did. Not much gets past him.

Nana ignored them both as she smiled and said, "Please make yourself at home! I won't bother you two!"

Tsuna rolled his eyes before turning back. "Sorry about that," he said, clueless to Kyoko's previous discomfort. "Was there anything you want to do while you're here Kyoko-san?"

Reborn took his cue to intervene. "How about a game?" as he popped up with a gun – opportunely pointed right into Tsuna's face.

_Do not want._ Tsuna pushed the gun so its barrel was pointing _away_ from him. "Russian Roulette," Reborn explained. "It's a practice of placing one round in a revolver, spinning the cylinder, aiming the revolver at one's own head in a suicidal fashion, and then pulling the trigger. It is indeed a life risking way to test one's luck."

_I _know_ what Russian Roulette is- no, don't go there. Baaaaad memories. _"And why would you want to play that sort of game?" Tsuna asked sceptically.

"Sounds fun!" Kyoko clapping her hands excitedly.

Tsuna, while dearly wishing his friend would be against the idea, was sadly not surprised. "I have a sudden feeling of inevitable doom…"

"The bullet is for party use, it's safe," Reborn said, demonstrating this with a spring loaded head popping out of the barrel of the gun when he pulled the trigger. "Really, it's like you don't trust me."

"I'm not going to even dignify that with a response. But one only hopes you're not stupid enough to let us play around with _loaded guns_." Tsuna bestowed a pointed look at Reborn, who couldn't help thinking _damn, this kid is good_.

"Kyaaah, how cute! Hey, let's try it Tsuna-kun!" Kyoko clasped her hands together.

Tsuna gave in to his friend's request. "Well, if you really want to, I'm in."

"Who's gonna do the honour?"

"Me!" Kyoko said as she waved her hand around enthusiastically, obviously enjoying herself.

"Okay Kyoko," Reborn handed her the gun, while efficiently suppressing the urge to laugh evilly.

"Uwah, I'm getting a bit nervous," Kyoko mumbled as she held the gun in her hands.

_That's just a normal human reaction_. Tsuna tensed as the girl held the gun to her forehead. She hesitantly pulled the trigger, and the gun exploded loudly.

Tsuna sat, frozen, until he leapt to his feet at the obviously real gunshot. "WHAT THE– Reborn-san, what the hell did you do?"

Still clutching the gun in her fingers, Kyoko slumped to the floor with a hole right in the middle of her forehead. Tsuna crouched over her, while Reborn looked down at the still body. "Ah. I loaded the Dying Will Bullet."

"I can _see that_! Oh my god, Kyoko-san!"

Ignoring Tsuna's minor spazz attack, Reborn said "This is your first time seeing the Dying Will Bullet in action, right?" The hitman shoved a bullet in Tsuna's dazed vision of sight. "This is the Dying Will Bullet. A person that is shot with this will be resurrected with a dying will after dying."

"…What?"

"Basically, your dying will is based on what you are regretting when you die."

Tsuna almost regretted asking. He had a _dead body_ in his bedroom. His friend's life had prematurely expired, all because of his trigger-happy, sadistic tutor. "And what happens if you don't regret anything?"

Reborn turned to the prone body. "I'm an assassin."

"You asshole, what could she possibly regret at a time like this? If Kyoko-san dies, I won't forgive you!"

Reborn thought about this, then shrugged. "Don't care."

"And then I'll give up the Sawada name and whatever inheritance it carries, including any claim to the Vongola succession, and run off to Canada, just to _piss you off_!"

Reborn couldn't help harbouring just a _hint_ of respect towards Tsuna. Mind you, it was a very small. About a tenth the size of an atom. Hardly anything to scoff at. But it was there.

Tsuna paused momentarily. "Hang on, isn't there some kind of weird side-effect with those Dying Will bullets?"

Reborn smirked at those words. "There is. Look."

Their attention was drawn back to Kyoko as the girl started to glow. A small flame appeared on her forehead as Kyoko sat back up with an oddly blank face, while her clothes ripping away to reveal white undergarments; something that Tsuna was unprepared for and didn't want to see.

Any normal teenage boy would have collapsed from this picture and because of the sudden blood flow to their nose. Tsuna, on the other hand, immediately averted his eyes in an attempt to preserve whatever modesty his half-naked friend had in this condition.

_My life is one whole WTF moment_ Tsuna reflected, terribly dismayed, before turning to Reborn and yelling "What kind of a side-effect is _that_? And who was the perv that invented such a bullet anyway?"

"Vongola Primo."

Waterfall tears ran down Tsuna's face. "Even better. Now I need new relatives."

He snapped out of this miserable state when Kyoko stood up and mechanically marched out of his room. Tsuna then jumped into action and grabbed a towel that was draped on his chair. "W-wait a second, you can't walk around like that!"

Reborn followed, muttering "So Kyoko gets really quiet when she has her Dying Will."

_What could she possibly be regretting?_ Tsuna thought. While any normal person would have freaked at the situation like he did, Tsuna had learnt to adapt, regardless of whatever crazy situation reared its ugly head. Underdressed friend on a murderous rampage? That was a new one. _And I have to keep my head; it's highly likely I'm the only person currently around here with any common sense and ability to deal, minus homicidal tendencies._

"Kyaaaaaaah!" Nana's scream only heightened Tsuna's opinion. He quickly bounded over the last few steps, and gawked as the scene he was confronted with as he stared through the Kyoko-shaped hole in the wall. His mother was flabbergasted in the face of his friend in her underclothes declaring, "Aunty, what you said earlier is unforgivable. I'll ask you to retract it, no matter what."

Then again, it could also be the fact that Kyoko managed to effortlessly destroy the dining table as she leant her body weight onto it.

"I'm mad-" (that chair was innocent), "because you labelled him like that-" (there goes the fridge), "without any consideration," (goodbye cooking utensils).

Sawada Nana vs. Sasagawa Kyoko: FIGHT!

Tsuna would intervene, if he wasn't watching the wanton destruction and his out-of-control friend, reflecting. "She regretted being called my friend that badly? I thought we got along okay." A bunch of plates fell to the floor with a clatter; the sounds of smashing crockery accompanied his consideration.

"Then again," Tsuna continued cynically, "I wouldn't want to be friends with me, not if all sorts of weird and crazy shit like this happens on a normal basis."

Reborn's face was once again in shadow. It seems that it hadn't occurred to his strangely dense pupil that Kyoko could be feeling regret on his behalf. Looks like Tsuna exhibited a few traits hinting at self-worth issues. As the tutor, he'd have to deal with them. (Why did he always get the ones wracked with self-doubt?)

"I won't let you get away." Kyoko grasped Nana by the apron strings and then hauled her into the air with an inhuman strength. "Please retract it."

Tsuna decided that he should step in now, before Kyoko destroyed anything else and possibly killed someone. His mother had fainted from the shock already, if her frothing mouth and zonked out expression was any indication. But before he could intervene, Reborn decided, "No other way. I'll just have to use that."

The small suitcase# he had been carrying around clicked open, revealing a small hammer. "Reverse 1 ton," the hitman proclaimed.

"Let me guess," Tsuna couldn't help saying sarcastically, "it weighs one ton."

The hammer smashed into the floor, leaving an indent as Reborn dragged it. "Yep."

"…Very original," Tsuna muttered. "Hey, what're you plotting now?"

Reborn didn't say anything but he flipped the hammer upwards into in a wide arc, before the weapon speedily collided with Kyoko's head.

Tsuna winced at the impact as the bullet shot out, for better word, rolling away after it had fallen onto the floor with a dull _clink_. Kyoko collapsed, as did Sawada Nana. Tsuna was quick to run over to the both of them, but not before he flung the towel over his female classmate.

The baby hitman walked over to them, his small Italian shoes tapping their way around the bits of kitchen and debris. "Reverse 1 ton can disable the Dying Will Bullet. Only I could use this technique though." He had the hammer slung over his shoulder, but he flipped it down again with a muted thud. "Now she'll think of her dying will time as a dream."

"If you had this method, you should have used it from the beginning!" Tsuna screeched.

_

* * *

_

Sasagawa Household

Kyoko leaned back in her chair as she dried her still-damp hair. She didn't remember preparing to have a shower, but she must have dozed off, as she woke up from her position on the bathroom chair already half-undressed with a towel wrapped around her.

It had been a weird dream. She pondered it thoughtfully. "A dream where I tried to retract what Tsuna-kun's mother said- 'troublesome son'. How strange…"

"Oi, Kyoko! Hana's on the phone, she wants to talk with you TO THE EXTREME!"

"Oh, right!" Kyoko accepted the phone from her dynamic brother, who had extremely appeared at her door. "Hana-chan, hi. Sorry about Ryohei-nii."

Hana's voice was slightly strained. "It's really no problem. I'm calling about the home economics report due soon, but before we get into that, I wanted to ask you something. What is it with the kid hanging around Tsuna?"

"Oh, you mean Reborn-chan – apparently he's a friend of Tsuna-kun's father."

"Oh, really? Huh…"

Kyoko blinked confusedly. "Hana?"

"…It's nothing, never mind. Anyway, about that report?"

Ten minutes later, in the Kurokawa Household, Hana tossed her phone onto her bedspread, before falling onto the bed herself. She stared up at the ceiling quietly.

"So a child that knows Tsuna's father appears. Then an Italian transfer student arrives and exhibiting levels of hatred which disappears within the day. Factor in Yamamoto Takeshi suddenly being all chummy, and you have more discrepancies." She turned over and buried her face into a pillow. "Kyoko and I are Tsuna's friends. If there was anything going on or worrying him, he'd tell us, right?"

_You haven't been very close friends for long. I mean, he kept to himself for most of his early childhood, right? You didn't even _like_ kids when you were one yourself, and you became friends because you were curious about how you weren't able to _manipulate_ him. Hardly the usual basis of a deep and mutual friendship. Sure, you guys hang out, but why would he even _bother_ to tell you, or Kyoko, any of his troubles? _

Hana closed her eyes and ignored the snide voice in her head.

* * *

After Kyoko had been dropped off (ie. smuggled back to her place), and his unconscious mother had been laid out in her room to sleep off the day's events, Tsuna had been dubiously saddled with the job of cleaning up.

…Well, it wasn't like Reborn was going to do it.

Either way, Tsuna was used to running damage control. And at least the chibi-hitman had speedily gotten new replacements for the damaged furniture, as well as additional dinnerware. Men came by in a nondescript truck to quickly and quietly pack away everything. They traded the broken refrigerator and the table and cabinets with new, identical furnishings, before driving off as rapidly as they had come. Even the wall had been fixed. All Tsuna had to do was throw away the damaged tableware and clean up the remains of the wreckage.

By the time the house was in its usual state it was getting dark, and Tsuna stared at the ticking clock with apprehension before heading off to the pantry. His mother was in no shape to prepare dinner, so he'd have to do it. He soothed himself by taking out his irritation from the day's trial on vegetables.

Dinner came and went, with Tsuna withdrawing into his mind most of the time, Reborn's occasional remarks and Nana's cheerful dialogue. Then Reborn went for a short walk around the neighbourhood. "Be safe!" Nana called cheerfully.

Tsuna just raised a hand in silent farewell while he cleared away the dinner dishes. If anything, it should be the Namimori gangs and local Yakuza that should be worried for their lives. "I'm going to go up and get some work done," he told his mother. She nodded, and Tsuna walked out of Nana's sight. The house was quiet once again, and when he was safely in his room, Tsuna just stood there, back leaning against the door. Hand reaching into his pocket, he brought out a small lacquer box that no bigger than a matchbox.

Inside was the object that had brought forth so much trepidation. With one eye closed, Tsuna observed the innocent bullet (now there was a paradoxical term) as it glinted in the artificial light. _This Dying Will Bullet… freaks me out. I'll have to examine it later. I need to know exactly what I'm going up against._

He also needed to invest in a secret lab, Tsuna thought morosely, as shoved the bullet back in its box and into his pocket once again. The object settled there with an almost heavy weight.

This entire situation with the DWB, while comical to some extent, had hit the message home.

_This isn't some kind of joke. They're actually serious. They want me to lead a mafia family. They sent over a __**bloody tutor**__. I already have a self-proclaimed right-hand man, and at this rate Yamamoto's going to be dragged into this. Whatever next? _

Tsuna sank to his knees as he sat with his back leaning against the walls of his room._ Of his own home_, which had been infiltrated, and now housed a hitman tutor willing to subject him to extreme measures in order to comply with the orders of the Vongola.

_This…won't be as simple as turning down a job offer. _

* * *

* - Foobar, a term in many a hacker's vocabularly, linked to the slang word FUBAR used in WWII, which basically meant 'Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition'.

# - The one that possibly contained most of his weapon arsenal – there was another example of the Mafia laws of physics in motion.

* * *

Anon. Reviews Corner:

**phppsmss:** Tsuna's more covert. Instead of blowing up someone, he prefers to knock them out…The watch only fits one tranquiliser dart (in case of emergencies). I'm not really sure how I thought up Tsuna having such a thing, besides him watching Conan.

**ChibiOtaku13:** You never know when a stun dart will come in handy. And the whole Dying Will Bullet thing doesn't have much appeal to Tsuna right now. Poor Kyoko… :D

**InzanityRulz:** Thank you! I'm not sure when exactly, but Reborn already knows something is up, so it's only a matter of time. As for the Vongola, they'll have to have a groundbreaking revelation sometime later. Tsuna's past is a joy to write, as I can make it up as a part of my own 'verse. Thanks for your review!

**DarkRoseDevon:** Yes, Tsuna was influenced by what he reads/sees/watches. Often with strange effect. I'm delighted you like my story's shape – I realised just following the original storyline was too boring, so I fiddled around and this all happened. Thank you for the comment!

**green-road:** Multitasking isn't always what it's cracked up to be. Like me writing stories, doing homework and maintaining a conversation. I get a laugh out of myself when I read over that summary, simply because I find the warning sums some of the things we love of KHR. And Hibari _does_ need a warning all on his own. I've tried to balance Tsuna's character – he's not a pushover, but he's isn't the type to solve things with violence. I'm happy you see him as funny and smart; it's what I'm going for. Ah, I love referencing, and it shows, doesn't it? Thank you for your comments and praise!

**Kitsune:** Thank you! I don't have everything set in stone for the future, but a confrontation would be something to see! Currently Reborn is gathering data and piecing info, so I expect he'll learn more about Tsuna's childhood soon enough :)

**CloudGateau:** Thanks, high commendations! I hope the quality will continue to please.

* * *

Author's Note:

Tsuna's finally comes face to face with the Dying Will Bullet! Needless to say, he wasn't all that impressed. And after that linked back-story, I'll be moving on from the Volkov and Acerbi to bring you more characters, such as properly introducing and giving some info on Ru Wen (first the Mafia, then Chinese Triads, what next?) And there's quite a few OCs waiting in the wings that I'm hoping to introduce in the future.

It looks like a lot of you have been enjoying those beginning snippets, and they'll continue :D Thanks once again to all the reviews, feedback, ideas bounced around and general support. I'm astounded, and I love you all for it!


	5. Explosions, Assassins and Tonfas

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

* * *

_Sawada Iemitsu held a very important tape in his hands. Nana had sent him the video that bore witness to what he had wanted to see with his own two eyes, but unfortunately a recording would have to suffice. All the children of Tsuna's class were doing a project on the future, and giving examples of what kind of careers at this point in time they found interesting. This made the tape __**priceless**__._

_And Tsuna was growing up so _fast_. _

"So what do you want to be in the future?_" the teacher asked._

_Tsuna looked up adorably before beaming. "_I want to follow my Otou-san's footsteps!_" _

_Iemitsu blinked back tears as he stared at the videotape. His son was so cute! Wanting to emulate his awesome father! He was going to grow up and become the bestest Vongola boss ever! Pride swelled in his chest like the waves of a powerful tsunami._

"When I grow up, I want to become a policeman!_" _

_Wait, WHAT? _

…_Unexpected. And unsettling. Timoteo had seen and experienced a lot over the years, but even he wasn't completely sure how to approach this situation. Iemitsu was crouching in a corner of gloom as the tape continued to roll. _

"That's nice. So your father is a policeman?"

"Maybe. He said something about a traffic warden, but I think he was lying. And he's got all these workmates who wear suits, always, so I bet my guess is on the mark."

"I see…"

_Evidently, the teacher thought Tsuna was mistaken. Which wasn't false, per say, but grossly inaccurate when it came to Iemitsu's actual career. Timoteo shook his head. "Iemitsu, Tsunayoshi is a child, and he doesn't know you're in the Mafia. Therefore, he's simply wrong in his presumption – you shouldn't take it to heart." _

"_M-my son…wants to follow in my footsteps… but this wasn't how I envisioned it! At this rate he's probably going to grow up and ARREST ME!" Iemitsu wailed. _

_Timoteo sweatdropped. Good grief… But instead he continued, "It's your anniversary soon, right? I'm sure we can give you a few days off to check up on things at home. Nana will undoubtedly be pleased, and isn't Tsuna six years old already? My, how time flies…" _

_Iemitsu visibly collected himself. "I couldn't possibly; I still have to draft the papers for the basis of that treaty…"_

_Timoteo clasped Iemitsu's shoulder encouragingly. "I'll get someone else to do it. It's not something that you have to necessarily deal with, and I know it's difficult, having to balance two Families. Furthermore, in light of this…" he tried to find the right words, "…development, I think you're needed at home." And so it was done._

_The young Tsuna continued to sketch the basic plans for the robot he wanted to build one day. It would have secret compartments, and infra-red cameras, and night vision, and sensors, and internet access, and laser beams, and it would be _totally awesome_._

_While Nana had hidden it well, she had been depressed that Iemitsu might not make it home back in time to celebrate their wedding anniversary. And children notice more than they're given credit. _

_Truthfully, Tsuna hadn't wanted to be like his father. He was leaning towards a career that was something technology based instead. But pretending he wanted to be a cop to stir up trouble? And possibly alarm the right people so that his father would come home? Coincidentally timed to coincide with that anniversary? _

_All in the name of sweet, sweet revenge. _

_(Hey, those assassination and abduction attempts weren't exactly his idea of _fun_)._

_Nana was ecstatic when Iemitsu flew back home the day before with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and one of those huge beams of his. Tsuna had to withdraw to the safety of his own room after their reunion pash started to get a little heated. Ew. Looked like absence really did make the heart grow fonder. _

_With Iemitsu's unexpected return, Nana joyfully embarked on a cooking spree, and Tsuna found himself drifting around his mother's activity. Dinner had been a grand affair in the Sawada household, though Nana had to smack Iemitsu with a wooden spoon when he tried to give Tsuna his first taste of an alcoholic beverage. _

"_But Nana-chan~"_

"_No sake for Tsu-chan." _

_Tsuna rolled his eyes as his parents started making lovey-dovey eyes across the table. He debated whether he should make a tactical retreat, but it seemed to be out of the question when he found himself the sole attention of his father after dinner. _

"_How's my son doing, eh?" Iemitsu grinned while he gazed impishly at his son. However, behind that cheery smile was a father's worry coupled with a calculating, manipulative mind. "I heard you want to be a policeman? That's an interesting choice." _

_Tsuna blinked. Well, what do you know, he actually fell for it. "Okaa-san thought I'd look 'cute' in uniform, so I thought it would make her happy if I said so." Tsuna leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "I actually want to be a giant robot. But I don't know if anyone would believe me, so don't tell, okay?" _

_Hearing that your only son wanted to be a giant robot might have been weird, but to say Iemitsu was relieved was an understatement. Tsuna shied away as a large hand started to vigorously tousle his hair. "Otou-san!" he whined. _

_Iemitsu just laughed aloud. Seemed like the danger had been averted. And he got to see his wife and son out of this, so he wasn't going to complain! _

"_Tsuna, tomorrow, let's go FISHING! And to make it more interesting, ESKIMO-STYLE!" _

"…'_Tou-san, you're so embarrassing." The six-year old smiled wryly anyway. _

_And so Iemitsu would continue to wonder about his son's possible succession to the Vongola Mafia Famiglia, and Tsuna would continue to wonder what criminals he'd have to thwart _this_ time around. Unfortunately, it was much, _much_ later that Tsuna realised just how much Iemitsu did behind the scenes. _

…_Yeah, Xanxus probably wasn't the only one who'd have to deal with daddy issues. _

* * *

**The Mafia Wants You!  
**By swordsmagician

Target 005: Explosions, Assassins and Tonfas

Tsuna could devise a makeshift bomb from the products of a typical bathroom cabinet, con a casino owner out of a large amount of money, commit large amounts of technical code and jargon to memory, yet for the life of him couldn't remember some old equation from maths class? _That's just sad_, he thought, staring back down at the problem. Reborn had been somewhat taken aback by his abysmal mathematical ability, so Tsuna was to suffer through another of his tutor's torture methods. "The answer is… three?" he guessed.

Reborn smiled, and pushed down the detonator. "**Wrong**."

_KABOOSH_! In the kitchen, Nana looked up from her chopping board, before resuming her cooking. "Ah, explosions, totally normal."

Reborn had rigged a rather simple setup so that every time a question answered was incorrect, Tsuna's room was exploded. Sad thing was that the explosions were mild in comparison to some of the damage Reborn was capable of. Tsuna coughed as he waved away the smoke. "Are you sure you can legally teach at all? Wait, don't answer that, you're in the _mafia_. What kind of a home tutor uses bombs whenever a student makes a mistake?"

"An awesome one like me." A multitude of cables led to the detonators and triggers, all labelled for each question and set to explode for every error. Reborn smirked evilly. "This is how I roll."

It was like some sort of lethal version of a game show. The Weakest Link, TO THE EXTREME!

"That's definitely wrong!" Tsuna brushed off some residual plaster dust from his shirt. "And there's no way I'm paying for the damages done to my room!"

"Mathematics is very important. From financial matters to calculating the trajectory of throwing a stick of dynamite, numbers will forever be present in everyday life." Reborn tilted his hardhat. "And your school arithmetic results just suck. You need all the help you can get."

Tsuna shook his head in dismay as he turned his eyes upwards. "If there is any deity that feels an iota of pity for me," he pleaded, "send me a sign."

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

It was at this time that Tsuna happened to look out the window and encounter what appeared to be an afro on legs. Scratch that, a baby in a cow suit, with an afro. And a gun. He also looked eerily familiar-oh no, a _Bovino_? _Here_?

Tsuna looked to the heavens once again. "Does anyone up there _not_ hate me?"

Reborn just flipped over a page from the maths book. "Well, I'll review what we did now."

Tsuna scrutinised his tutor, and couldn't resist leaning forward and whispering, "Reborn-san, there's another crazy baby outside. You two aren't related, are you?"

Reborn whacked him with the textbook. "Pay attention!" Tsuna couldn't help but chuckle inwardly; he guessed Reborn was insulted because he dared question there might be a distant relation to the cowchild.

Who was now yelling, "Die, Reborn!"

Reborn now paid no mind to the interloper. "First the target is going to be this number…"

"Take that!" The young Bovino clicked the trigger, but there was no sudden onslaught of bullets. "Huh?" The child shook the gun confusedly, before the branch he was standing on broke, and sent him plummeting to the ground.

Gravity: 1

Lambo: 0

Tsuna half-stood from his seat. "What the- be careful!"

The Bovino merely mumbled, "To-le-rate," as he slowly got to his feet. There was a deceptive lull in activity, and then the door to Tsuna's room slammed open to reveal-

"Long time no see, Reborn! It's me, Lambo!"

"Uh…" Tsuna just stared on, before turning to the chibi-hitman. Who was currently giving the new arrival the cold shoulder, all the while pointing to the textbook and saying, "Remember this formula."

Now that was just plain mean. In retaliation to such treatment, Lambo brandished a carving knife, all the while yelling "Hey, don't ignore me! I'll kill you damnit!" Reborn merely flipped his arm and Lambo was sent careening into a wall.

Tsuna was so confused right now. _Am I witnessing child abuse? How do these two even _know_ each other? _

"Oh, that hurt…" Lambo muttered. "I must have tripped over something." He turned around to loudly proclaim, "I, Lambo-san, 5 years old, from Italy, a hit man from the Bovino Famiglia, tripped! Favourite foods are grapes and candy and I, Lambo-san, who met Reborn at a bar, tripped!"

Tsuna sweatdropped_. H-he's trying so hard to introduce himself too…_ Lambo's dogged persistence was amazing, given the circumstances. But Tsuna was more concerned about the idea that the Bovino were the kind of Mafia Famiglia that would send a _five-year-old _'hitman' to deal with a person like _Reborn_.

Someone must have messed up there.

"So yeah, let me try again." The child raised a hand. "Yo, Reborn! It's me, Lambo!"

"With that formula, solve this," Reborn continued, still snubbing.

Lambo was now standing in his own corner of gloom. But before Tsuna could even speak to the kid, there was the sound of a safety catch being removed. Tsuna quashed his sigh and turned back to Reborn, who was still holding his gun and waiting expectantly for the answer. "I believe the answer is four."

"Yes, it is a four. And you live to see another day."

Lambo sniffed dejectedly. "That jerk."

_I agree with you on that one._ Tsuna sweatdropped once again as the child started crying in the darkened corner. _But being disregarded isn't that bad a deal; I think I'd be much happier if Reborn was ignoring _me _so I could forget about this whole mafia heir business. _

Like magic, Lambo stood himself up, brushed at his clothes, and swivelled around. "Fohohoho!" he laughed. "This time, I borrowed a lot of weapons from the boss that are passed down in the Bovino Family."

Tsuna raised an eyebrow. _A change of approach? Well, at least he's not crying- wait, they gave him weapons? But the Bovino's have-_

"Tada~! The Ten Year Bazooka!"

_-my god, they really gave _that_ to him?_

"Those who are shot with this can, for five minutes, switch with themselves ten years in the future."

There were so many things wrong with giving the means of time travel to a five year old. _Really, where was the Doctor* when you needed him?_

"But this is only a sample presentation. It'll be a waste so I'm going to put it away." Tsuna exhaled. _Thank goodness._ "Oh my! I found something good!" Lambo then brought out a pink grenade. "Oh no, what may this be?" he chortled.

Tsuna's jaw dropped in horror. "Is that a hand grenade?" he cried.

"CORRECT!" Lambo lobbed the explosive. "DIE REBORN!"

With one quick movement, Reborn sent the grenade back to its owner, and Lambo was flung straight out the window. For a minute he was seemingly suspended in mid-fall, at least, before time resumed its natural course and there was another almighty explosion.

"Let's go to the next question." The light from the blast illuminated Reborn's face eerily.

"Reborn, time out for a few minutes, and I think you could be convicted with severe cruelty to children. In fact, Lambo's not the only victim here." _You know what; forget that, I want to know why the neighbours never notice this stuff._ "How do you even know him?"

"I don't."

"Eh?"

Reborn shrugged dismissively as he toasted marshmallows on remnant flames from the explosion. "Either way, if it's the Bovino Famiglia, they're a rather small mafia group."

"So?" Tsuna asked.

"I don't associate with those of a lower rank," Reborn said bluntly.

…_You elitist snob. _

* * *

"Tsuna~"

"Hm? What is it?"

"Come here." Nana waved a hand and gestured to the beaten, crying Bovino child clutching at her trousers. "He's Reborn-kun's friend, right?"

Tsuna's eye twitched. _'Friends' is pushing it._

"Did they fight? Tsuna, you're older than those two, so can you be the middle man and settle it out?" Nana explained with a smile.

This was not necessarily a good sign #. "I'm going to make dinner, so I'll leave it to you." Before she left, she gave him a look, and subtle nod. Tsuna knew his mother well. And Nana knew her son would be fine.

_Still, why am I always designated as the one to deal with this? _Tsuna stared back down at Lambo, who by now had transferred his person to Tsuna's own leg as he currently tried to muffle his sobs into the fabric, Tsuna patted Lambo's afro. "Hey now, it could be worse," he tried to console Lambo, but this just caused him to cry harder. He tried again. "Do you want me to call Reborn for you?" At these words, Lambo shook his head and bawled uncontrollably. _He's been scarred with fear _Tsuna realised._ So he _does_ have some sense of self-preservation._

Tsuna couldn't help empathising with the kid. Looks like he wasn't the only one suffering under Reborn's oppressive personality. He gently pried Lambo off his leg and held him in his arms, and the Bovino child buried his face into the crook of Tsuna's neck.

"Tell you what," Tsuna said as he patted Lambo's back soothingly, "I think we should get out of the house and away from Reborn. He's such a prick, isn't he?" Lambo hiccupped and nodded. "Yeah. I think that's a good idea," Tsuna muttered as he closed the front door behind him.

By the time they had reached their destination – a grassy field in Namimori – Lambo had gotten himself under control, but was prone to outbreaks of sniffling. Still, he accepted the grape-flavoured candy that Tsuna had offered, and the two sat side by side in silence until Lambo spoke up. "La… Lambo's dream is to be the boss of the Bovino Famiglia and *sniff* make all humanity bow down to me…"

_That's nice. That's real nice. You, along with a large portion of the rest of the world._ "A most… ambitious aspiration," Tsuna noted aloud.

Lambo pulled at a few blades of grass. "But, my Boss told me that if I have big dreams like that, I can always go my own way and aim straight for world domination. So he told me to defeat the super-first class Hitman, Reborn."

"So, you really have met Reborn before?" Tsuna asked.

Lambo puffed his cheeks. "Yeah! When I was taken to the bar the first time by my Boss, he was sitting on the counter. We spoke a lot, even if it was our first time meeting."

_Hang on. Your _boss_ took you to a _bar_? At your age?_ Then again, Tsuna couldn't talk. He'd first walked into a bar at the age of seven. His life was so bizarre, and that wasn't the half of it.

The five year old continued with his explanation. "While Lambo was eating his favourite grapes, Reborn was blowing bubbles with his gum from his nose."

_You mean Reborn was sleeping? That…actually explains a lot._

Tsuna glanced upwards to the clouds overhead. One could only imagine what it would be like if he had the kind of upbringing Lambo had that entailed actually _growing up_ in the Mafia. It was bad enough that they interfered in Tsuna's own life; who knew how things could have turned out in another timeline?

And growing up in the Mafia can't have been easy… Tsuna looked back to the younger boy. "Lambo, of the Bovino Famiglia?" Lambo turned around and stared at him, puzzled. Tsuna stuck out a hand. "I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi. I know of the Bovino, and it's nice to meet you."

Lambo stared up at Tsuna with wide eyes, before his smaller hand, a little sticky from candy, clutched Tsuna's own and they shook formally. It may have been strange, given that Lambo had been anything but formal and polite, but his current subdued mood and subsequent explanation had given Tsuna enough of an insight. From what he had seen, Lambo was irritating, violent and loud. He was a child, and an attention-seeking one at that.

But everyone wants to be recognised.

Tsuna stood up and stretched his arms, and Lambo hastened to do the same, but this time looking much happier. Tsuna smiled down at the kid. "I guess I should be getting back now. Is there anywhere you have to be or go that I can drop you off along the way?"

There was a surprised start, and the next thing he knew, Lambo had pounced, thrown his little arms around his neck, and pinned Tsuna down with a large, watery gaze had threatened to overflow again. Tsuna chuckled weakly. "My house it is then. It's not like my mother will complain. I mean, she's already housing an expert assassin."

With Lambo scoring a piggyback, Tsuna was planning to walk back home at a sedate pace, until he suddenly broke out into a run. This was no accident, as the bullet from a sniper rifle missed him by a few metres to harmlessly impact with dirt.

There was an unholy yowl of "DIE!"

"Oh fu-" Tsuna quickly amended his words as his eyes flickered to Lambo, "-dge. Oh fudge."

Lambo perked up at this, rather than the fact they were being shot at. "Fudge? Lambo-san wants some!"

Tsuna swerved to avoid more bullets. "How about I make some later? Right now, I'm more concerned about _the man trying to kill me!_" he roared back in the direction of his attacker.

Said attacker screamed "STAND STILL SO I CAN KILL YOU DAMNIT!"

Tsuna was now running in some of the empty backstreets of Namimori. What _perfect_ timing, people trying to kill him now, when he had Lambo in his charge. Tsuna took a small disc out of his pocket and pressed an indent in the middle, causing the object to flip out into a small, curved shield. Tsuna was quick to fasten it onto Lambo's small back like a protective turtle shell as he ran. At least it should deflect any bullets. "Just hold on and keep it down, okay?" he told the younger boy, who nodded with wide eyes.

Tsuna then vaulted over an inconveniently placed brick wall before veering off to the side, refusing to make himself an easy target. He took in his surroundings. The apartment buildings in this part of town were shabby but sturdy; the interiors were better. No trees or plants here; steel fire escapes in good condition; narrow streets. The assassin would have a hard time getting a clear shot, what with the winding pathway Tsuna was taking. Yet he didn't try to pick up the pace or get any closer, almost like the assassin was biding his time-

Tsuna dove into another street as a _second_ attacker broke out with machine gun fire. Great, now there were more of them. With years of experience in evading the mob, a healthy interest in parkour, and the knowledge of being born and raised in Namimori, at least Tsuna had an edge that the two killers couldn't make up for. That, and he wasn't alone either.

"Hey, hey, Lambo-san has another grenade!" his passenger chose this time to speak up and offer assistance.

"…Just how many grenades do you have on you?" Tsuna seriously considered the idea anyway. "I wouldn't think to use it; I try not to destroy the buildings in Namimori-"

A wayward bullet ricocheted, narrowly missing Tsuna's ear.

"-On second thought, go right ahead."

The practical application of explosives had long been included in the Mafia curriculum, naturally. And the Bovino family were pretty keen on that kind of thing. "GYAHAHA!" Lambo looked deliriously happy at the idea of blowing up some random assassin. _Kids these days…_

"Not yet!" Tsuna warned, as Lambo brought out a pink grenade, of all things, from his afro. Yes. His afro. Tsuna had to make do with pockets (that, admittedly, sometimes held more than they should), but Lambo really took the cake when it came to the joys of what could be referred to as 'Hammerspace'.

Tsuna couldn't help saying aloud a few words that seemed fitting for the occasion. "Oh, Lord, bless this thy hand grenade that with it thou mayest blow thy enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy."

Lambo settled for yelling "TAKE THIS!" as he gleefully chucked the explosive behind him and into the path of their foes. The second attacker managed to evade it by flinging himself around a building corner, but the original assassin wasn't so lucky, and found himself hurled into some garbage cans by the force of the blast.

In the following confusion, Tsuna readied himself. The assassin who was still conscious started shooting at the obscure mass of cloud from the explosion, in the hopes of hitting something. As he loaded more ammunition for another assault, he prepared himself to move as soon as the air cleared.

His caution was appropriate, but futile, as the tranquiliser dart embedded itself into his arm. "Shit!" Eyes widening, he looked up, hands still halfway through reloading.

What he saw was Tsuna hanging from a suspended fire escape with Lambo clasping at his neck like some kind of demented koala. The last thing the assassin saw before blacking out was Lambo having the cheek to flash a victory sign.

Major trouble averted, Tsuna clambered down from his perch as Lambo chattered on about 'the supreme order of the universe' obeying his will, or something. But he didn't let his guard down, and for good reason. The third attacker made himself known as he broke away from the shadows and swung a punch. Tsuna soon found himself embroiled in a hand-to-hand-combat with a mobster.

A mobster who had forgotten something very important.

Tsuna couldn't help but roll his eyes. "This is Japan," he said mildly as he evaded a kick. "For all you know, this Japanese kid might just be a martial artist."

He ducked as another punch went over his and Lambo's heads. Tsuna planted his hands onto the floor and was quick to flick up a leg and smash the assassin's face with a satisfying whack. He then flipped over, stuck out a leg and swiped out the man's legs from underneath him, sending the other sprawling. Before the mobster could jump back up for another round, the sole of a shoe was soon grinding itself into his face.

The shoe belonged to the taller boy in black, a red armband denoting his status. After all the action and conflict, Tsuna was pleasantly surprised with the new arrival. "Kusakabe?"

The second-in-command of the Disciplinary Committee took in the dusty Tsuna, Lambo, the two unresponsive bodies some distance away, and the damage wrought by much gunfire and a hand grenade. He then stared down at the very-much-defeated mobster at his feet, which now had Kusakabe's shoe print plastered on his face. He raised an eyebrow. "I thought it might be you. Any injuries this time, Sawada?"

"No, I'm fine. What's up?" Tsuna said, blatantly ignoring the out-of-commission mafiosi.

"The chairman has been amusing himself with three assassins attempting to leave behind a bomb in Namimori. Apparently listening to their torturous screams is very therapeutic."

"Ah, good old Hibari."

"Indeed." Kusakabe absently rolled the twig in his mouth, before stating, "You have a hanger-on."

Tsuna smiled and made introductions. "Kusakabe, this is Lambo."

Lambo stared up at the upperclassman. "Cool hair," he said bluntly.

Kusakabe couldn't help but laugh. "Likewise, Lambo-kun. Well," he turned to Tsuna, "who is it this time?"

Tsuna looked at the unconscious man on the floor, then bent down, rifled through the pockets of the black suit, and pulled out a wallet. He opened it and started looking for identification. "No affiliations, just some mercenaries by the looks of things." Tsuna started counting out the cash in the wallet. "They're carrying around quite a bit of money. Here," he passed it to Kusakabe, "for the Namimori Charity Organization, with my compliments."

"…You're really something, Sawada. I don't know how you're able to deal with this. And never mind those three; the Committee will take care of them." Their eyes both flickered to the unconscious bodies, before Kusakabe grasped Tsuna's shoulder reassuringly. "You'd be better off heading for home. Just don't get yourself killed on your way back, or Hibari's prospective opponent pool will decrease dramatically."

Tsuna was not amused. "The only reason he hasn't bitten me to death for 'disrupting the tranquillity of Namimori' is because I draw potential prey for his fighting sensibilities like bees to honey." Kusakabe shrugged diplomatically, but his eyes held a great deal of mirth as Tsuna grumbled.

Lambo tugged at Tsuna's hair from his position atop Tsuna's shoulders. "Lambo-san now demands candy for being awesome!"

"Well, I guess you deserve it. But after dinner."

Meanwhile, Kusakabe got down to business and was talking through his mobile phone. "…Of course. Three others have also been taken care of. Altogether that's about six-"

A figure chose this time to come out of nowhere, fists glinting with brass knuckledusters as he lunged at Tsuna, who calmly ducked and lashed out with one hand. There was a zap, and the man's eyes widened before he fell to the floor, grasping his privates.

Lambo's eyes were wide. Tsuna held the still-smoking taser in his hands.

Kusakabe blinked before saying into his phone, "Make that seven assassins."

* * *

The first man was struck down immediately. The second was rammed in the gut. A lengthy chain hooked itself onto one tonfa, but he used it to _pull_ the last mobster closer, and said mobster received a tonfa to the _face_. Hibari stared down at the bloody, pathetic bodies before him (stupid herbivores) before hauling up the one that was still semi-conscious. "Who are you? Who sent you?" He was given a sneer in return, so the Disciplinary Committee leader was completely justified in breaking five of the man's ribs.

He then roughly threw aside the body in favour of his phone. "Kusakabe, three herbivores have been duly punished. Their weapons will be confiscated and added to the Disciplinary Committee armoury. Send a clean-up crew to remove the bodies."

"_Of course,"_ Kusakabe stated from his side._ "Three others have also been taken care of. Altogether that's about six-_" There was some suspicious background noise, a thud accompanied by the crackle of electricity, "…_Make that seven assassins_."

"I see. Put Sawada on the phone," he ordered. There was a slight scuffle before he heard a familiar, lighter tone of "_Hibari-san, hi_."

Hibari cut to the chase. "Next time, find more challenging opponents to try to kill you."

There was a pause. "…_Nice to see you're concerned for my wellbeing._"

Ah, sarcasm. Then Sawada wasn't injured badly, if at all. "Hn."

"_So, a bomb?_"

Hibari cocked his head to one side as he clinically observed the unusual angle of the bent arm of one of the assassins. "I've taken care of it."

"_You mean you smashed it to bits with a tonfa._"

Hibari kicked at the heap of junk that _used_ to be the explosive device, right beside his victims. It was worthless to them, and no more useful to Hibari. "You can have the parts," he allowed generously.

"_Kusakabe can collect the machine gun and sniper rifle. I'm sure you can use them for something. And the assassins have kindly donated their money to charity." _There was a sigh, before Sawada said, "_There has to be more to life than fending off all these people._"

Hibari blinked at the admission. "Omnivore, what more do you want?" His question was greeted by the beeping tone that indicated Sawada had hung up on him.

Meanwhile, Tsuna silently handed back the phone to a bemused Kusakabe.

* * *

Kusakabe's help (and Hibari's by default) had made things a heck of a lot easier for Tsuna, who now wouldn't have to worry about what to do with the bodies of a bunch of beaten-up mafiosi.

Tsuna calculated in the earlier years he had, on average, an assassination attempt every month or so. A fair number of these he evaded, trapped, humiliated… And another percentage more often than not came across Hibari, who derived much pleasure from having the chance to bite them to death.

So Tsuna and Hibari had struck up an understanding of sorts. Tsuna could deal with assassination attempts and whatnot, but assistance had unpredictably materialized in the form of the Disciplinary Committee Leader. Tsuna unintentionally drew shady characters, mafia members, freelance assassins, mercenaries and their ilk, and Hibari was totally fine with that, so long as he could benefit from a wide range of unsuspecting opponents.

Tsuna had taken Kusakabe's advice (not that he wanted to hang around for too long at the scene of the crime), so he was soon back in the relative safety of home. Nana had already prepared dinner ("Lambo-chan staying over? The more the merrier!"). As she went to deliver the circular bulletin next door, Tsuna was left sitting between Reborn and Lambo at the dining table, hoping like hell that no fights would break out. There was still a great deal of tension in the air, but Lambo's venting in the form of explosions not too long before seemed to have calmed him down. Unfortunately, it also gave him the courage to throw his knife at Reborn.

Reborn casually deflected it with a fork, and it would have hit Lambo if Tsuna hadn't thrust out a hand. Reborn stopped chewing. Tsuna had managed to catch hold of the handle of the knife, leaving it inches away from Lambo's forehead. The knife was still vibrating.

This close call also brought the waterworks back. "WAHHH!" the cowchild cried.

At this, Reborn went back to his dinner as Tsuna tried to bring about some kind of peace. "Hey, Lambo, it's okay." Lambo's answer to this was jumping off his chair and pulling out the Ten Year Bazooka.

"Now hold on a second-" There was a poof of smoke, and Tsuna was soon facing another guy, who could only be described as _suave_. He was wearing a black jacket, cow-print shirt and white trousers. There was a small locket around his neck, a slight wave to his black hair, and he radiated lethargic coolness. "Goodness. It seems like I was brought back ten years with the Ten Year Bazooka."

The newcomer observed Tsuna with one open eye, that went from boredom to one sparked with interest. He raised a hand. "Hey, long time no see, young Tenth Vongola. Can I still call you Tsuna-nii in the past? Thanks for taking care of me ten years ago." His smile widened. "Do you recognise me?"

Tsuna thought it would be obvious. "Lambo. From the future." Then he said, "Man, you're tall!"

A chuckle erupted from the teenage Lambo as he walked forward and drew Tsuna into a hug. "Good old Tsuna-nii."

Tsuna's mind was still a little disorientated from the swap as he hesitantly patted the other. The Lambo of Ten Years then let go to tilt his head and face Reborn. "Hey, Reborn. I changed, didn't I? And to think you ignored me all those years ago."

The hitman kept silent as he ate. Older Lambo's face took an ominous turn.

…_Please let Lambo have learnt some form of self-restraint or level-headedness in the future_, Tsuna thought hazily. _It feels like there should be a warning on this: Spoiler Alert!_

"Geez!" TYL Lambo hissed as he pulled out a set of metal horns. He smirked as he attached them to his head. "Looks like I have to use my skills then. I'll show you how much I've changed in ten years."

Lambo then nodded to Tsuna. "Tsuna-nii, I'll show you my future awesomeness," he promised. Tsuna's eyes widened. _Please don't! _

"Thunder Set." Now emanating with a bright green glow, the two horns were literally _crackling_ with electricity. "My horns are channelling one million volts," TYL Lambo said darkly, as he lowered his head and **charged**. "Die, Reborn! Elettrico Cornatta!"

Teenage Lambo drew closer and closer, but froze just a few centimetres shy of Reborn, who had stretched out a hand to stab the other's head with a fork. A bead of blood welled from the wound as Tsuna just gaped at the scene.

"To-le-ra-te," TYL Lambo gritted his teeth at the pain, but he could only hold it in for so long. "WAHHHHH!" he burst out loudly as he spun around and barrelled into Tsuna, grasping him into an impulsive hug. "Tsuna-nii! Reborn's bullying me again!"

_Please don't tell me Lambo is still being terrorized in the future. _With his arms full of crying Lambo, again, Tsuna set about consoling him. _I guess some things stay the same._ Then there was an outbreak of smoke and Tsuna was clutching a bawling five-year-old.

"Oh dear, what's wrong Lambo-chan?" Nana had returned from her errand, and she crouched down to hear the child's answer, which was something unintelligible. "I think," Nana whispered to Tsuna, "that Lambo-chan wants to be friends with Reborn-kun."

"Well, he does try very hard to get Reborn's attention," Tsuna replied dryly.

Lambo chose this time to relinquish his grip on Tsuna and throw a multitude of grenades at Reborn. This action earned him another trip through the window with a following explosion. Reborn then lifted up his empty plate. "Maman, I want seconds."

"And I've lost my appetite." Tsuna let out an irritated breath as he stalked out of the room to retrieve Lambo. _Why can't I eat a normal dinner anymore? _

* * *

* - Tsuna _would_ know about Doctor Who (what with him and Ru Wen going to sci-fi conventions and whatnot). He'd also tried creating a sonic screwdriver at one point…

# - It was obvious who the real boss of the household was. Not that Sawada Iemitsu was around all that much to try to usurp Nana's position.

* * *

Anon. Reviews Corner

**ImploringIdeal:** Glad the new chapter helped you unwind from your studying. I'm getting the impression that those flashbacks are a common love in my reviewers. Maybe it's partly due to the idea of a younger Tsuna running around that draws them in? And yeah, I'm trying to get the suspense going. Introducing Ru Wen gives another dimension to Tsuna's past, unveils more information, and perhaps gives an insight into some of Tsuna's habits. Ah, the 'move to Canada'. I do plan to bring that up sometime in the future, while giving Reborn a taste of uncertainty at the same time. And as for those 'extensive mafia connections…' I'll have fun writing those. I just hope the scenes won't disappoint when they do turn up.

**phppsmss:** Sorry if I made you worry, what with the chapter title! I don't plan on Tsuna running around in his boxers as being integral/vital/needed in the plot, but there have been differing opinions on the DWB, so I have put up a poll to see what you all think.

**-Arashi-Storm-Guardian-**: Thank you :) Yeah, in this alternate universe he's very different, isn't he? A reviewer mentioned that Tsuna was more badass at five in this fic than fourteen in the original (sweatdrop). And I've managed to introduce but a few of the Mafia Families in this 'verse. I hope to show more of these OCs (they are relevant to plots and past stories) and their relations to Tsuna. So the plot thickens :D

**green-road:** And I'm REALLY glad you're enjoying yourself. I'm satisfied with that line I wrote in, because it aptly describes Tsuna's life as he would probably see it (one big WTF moment indeed!) Yes, the OCs will be relevant (at least, that's how I'm planning it to be). They're present in Tsuna's past experiences, and they will no doubt play a part in the present and future. Surprises and wacky interactions abound! And the South Pole does have its charms… Thanks again for another of your reviews!

**Kitsune:** Glad you like him :) The beginning snippets are pretty popular, and yes, some of those OCs will make appearances in present time. As of now, this story as no pairings, because I wasn't aiming to write romance in here. At this rate, it's more friendship-based, but I suppose some people will take my words and find hidden meanings whether I see them or not. Hence some comments on a possible TsunaxHana pairing, though I wasn't really going for that. Haha, you weren't the only one waiting for Hibari to show. And how could we ever forget Mukuro? I'm following the manga for this story, so at this point he'll probably take a while to make a proper appearance. I'm not sure if I could even reach the TYL timeline and beyond, though it would be awesome if I did. As of now, I'd be really happy to just make it past the Varia Arc. Yes, Reborn is his usual (evil) self.

**Yumi!:** Thanks, I'm happy you like it, and this Tsuna! Yes, I have realised quite a few mistakes, and the format of my stories has gone a bit strange for some reason, so I hope to go back and fix some of that. I hope you continue to enjoy :)

**WhoeverIWantToBe:** Good to know that you're enjoying this! I'm still brainstorming the Dr Shamal/Skull Disease chapter, so we'll see how that turns out. Hope you liked this chapter, and I don't plan on giving this story up, though there may be a hiatus.

* * *

Author's Note:

First of all, I'd just like to say that you're all amazing, AMAZING people. As I look at the reviews, favourites and alerts I am so lucky to receive, I am blown away. Metaphorically of course, I think there have been enough explosions in this chapter as it is. In any case, I've also put up a poll, so I hope to get some feedback and votes on that too. I'd be much obliged if you let me know what you think!

Exams are looming. Again. Bleh. However, action this time, with mobsters getting their asses kicked! Hibari graced us with his presence this chapter, so a shout out to his b'day this month.

Something happened with the layout of my stories, so I've revamped this fic a bit. Thank you once again for all of your encouragement, and I hope you've enjoyed this!


	6. Open For Enlistment

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

* * *

_The Yakuza were very different to their counterparts abroad, such as the Italian Mafia or Chinese Triads. Instead of adopting the model of a 'secret society', Yakuza organisations were a lot more open for business, with offices sporting wooden boards proclaiming their group name or emblem. Civilians could recognise Yakuza, as some openly flaunted their profession – their gait was often seen as arrogant; markedly different from the unassuming walk that many of the Japanese assumed. Members often wore sunglasses and colourful suits. Had bodies covered in tattoos. Sometimes even missing digits on hands. _

_Shun didn't fit the stereotype. His clothes were usually plain and casual. If he needed to indicate his affiliations, flashing the small clan tattoo concealed on the underside of his wrist was adequate enough. And while he was comfortable in his abilities, he couldn't really be classified arrogant, (just self assured). And he had all ten of his fingers, thank you very much. _

_The Suzuka-gumi was a rather large Yakuza group, divided into a number of clans spread out over Japan. Shun lived in Tokyo, with his parents and about fifty close Yakuza members. He'd been in middle school when he first met Tsuna. _

_One of the towns under Suzuka control was Okanabe, a neighbouring town to Kokuyo. It was business as usual when Shun found himself dealing with some lower-ranked punks of the Momokyokai yakuza gang. They had Namimori as home turf but with this attempt to breach Suzuka territory, they were just asking for a fight. He'd proceeded to 'bust a few heads', as his friend Noriko had so eloquently put it. _

_Then a couple of stronger Momokyokai members had come to see what middle-school student had been beating up their younger brothers. Things grew a little more challenging, and Shun was obliged to start using exploding tags. This brought us to the action. "Aarrrh!" one thug yelled as he swung a short sword at Shun's direction. Shun dodged to one side and swept past him effortlessly, attaching a piece of paper to the man's suit, which ignited and let off in an explosion. _

_The exploding tags were interesting little things that the Suzuka had developed – perhaps a mixture of paper and gunpowder, with the characteristics of firecrackers, Shun wasn't completely sure how they were made. What was important was that they worked, and soon Momokyokai men were running around on fire._

_Shun was now taking on three yakuza members at any one time, and the battleground was soon covered in little craters from the small, punchy explosions. He managed to deal with the brunt of the force, and reinforcements from the Suzuka-gumi were sure to turn up shortly, but until then he'd try not to sustain too many injuries. He'd just successfully knocked out the last of the Momokyokai before Shun turned quickly, his eyes widening just a fraction as he spotted the last incoming member, the Momokyokai first lieutenant, clutching a wicked looking sai in one hand._

_The man suddenly tripped and fell facedown onto the concrete. This effectively knocked him out, so Shun paused and stared. Then his eyes flickered to the small, brown haired boy standing to one side, whose leg was stuck out from where it had tripped up the man. _

_This… was unusual. A question mark appeared above Shun's head. He walked up to the younger boy, who looked like he was going to make a run for it at any time, clasped a hand on one small, skinny shoulder to avert this scenario, and leaned down with narrowed eyes to observe closer._

_Tsuna himself was cursing his actions for stepping into the situation. All he'd been doing was looking for a good electronics store that was reputedly tucked away on a side-street somewhere, but he'd been distracted by the fight. It had been only too easy to stick out a leg and trip over the unsuspecting yakuza guy, and help out the other boy in the process. But now the older student was staring at him with a kind of cool assessment that did not bode well. _

_But the older boy must have seen something he approved of, because he gave a resolute nod, and patted Tsuna's head as an afterthought. _

"_Little Brother!" _

_Shun turned idly to see a few Suzuka members coming towards him, led by his father's second lieutenant, Daisuke. The man stopped a few paces before him and whistled at the unconscious bodies that littered the area. "Look at that! Nice job Shun. We took care of a few more a couple of streets down." He then peered down at Tsuna. "Who's this kid?" _

_Shun gazed around at the men, his hand still clamped down on Tsuna's shoulder. "Don't touch him, he's my friend," he said, out of the blue. _

_Tsuna's face went slack at this remark, but the Suzuka men nudged each other. Shun had essentially marked the young boy as someone to be treated as a friend and ally. That was remarkable, to say in the least, because it didn't happen to everybody. Daisuke rubbed his chin in thought. "Well then, I guess we should show this young man our appreciation?" _

_At these words, the two were both ushered away to the Suzuka office some few blocks away, Shun reassuringly guiding the younger boy along with him. Tsuna couldn't escape, seeing as how he was literally surrounded by the yakuza. _Not good!

_After a few blocks down, some hesitant conversation with this 'Shun', and being escorted by the Suzuka associates, Tsuna found himself sitting in a Japanese-style room, under the watchful eyes of Daisuke, who was now wearing a sort of official attire. The realisation that the boy Tsuna had just helped out on a whim was the heir to a _Yakuza clan_ hadn't gone down too well in his brain. What wasn't helping was the formal atmosphere – a number of Suzuka subordinates were seated around them, their faces serious and stern. A nameless man stepped forward to pour out a cup of sake before he bowed and backed away. Tsuna frowned slightly (he wasn't really the type to drink alcohol, but why the one cup?) as Shun took a swig from it. _

_Then Shun solemnly offered it to Tsuna. _

_Tsuna just stared for a minute, uncomprehending, before it hit him. The grave atmosphere. The ceremonial garb. The solitary cup of sake. "Shun-san," he asked, "is this…an initiation ceremony?" _

_Shun cocked his head. "Yes," he said blankly. (Perhaps he had not been upfront enough?) _

_Tsuna freaked out. _He's trying to induct me into his clan as a Yakuza member! Shit! _It was Tsuna's cue to shoot up from his seated position, bow, stammer out, "SorryIreallyhavetogonowk'thanksbye!" and bolt for the nearest exit. _

_Many of the yakuza started out in junior high or high school as common street thugs, or joined gangs at such an age. Tsuna was in elementary school, aged nine, and had thought that being offered jobs by the Volkov and Acerbi last year had been bad enough. He'd never considered that the dangers of organised crime may lie closer to home. Literally. He prayed that the Namimori criminal populace would remain oblivious to the Sawada Tsunayoshi that called the place home. _

_He did acknowledge that Hibari would most likely find the entire situation another reason to exercise his unique brand of violence. (As well as scoff over Namimori yakuza gangs needing to be more carnivorous to uphold Namimori's honour). _

_Hideki, Shun's right hand man and best friend, was startled as a small blur dashed past him before bursting out into the hall, skidding around the members milling about, and bursting through the entrance doors. He blinked before walking steadily to the open door of the conference room, where the men, Daisuke and Shun were still present. _

"_Is it just me," Hideki said aloud to them all, "or are the yakuza recruits getting _younger_?" _

* * *

**The Mafia Wants You!  
**By swordsmagician

Target 006: Open For Enlistment

"…Lambo, I'm not one to condone violence, but if you're going to try to kill Reborn, can you do so at a suitable time?"

It was almost midnight. Lambo shuffled guiltily at the foot of Tsuna's bed, the gun clutched in his hands no doubt destined for another attack on Reborn. Tsuna sighed from his blankets. "Reborn would have set up traps anyway. There's really no need for you to try now."

The five-year old grumbled. Tsuna brought out the ultimate ploy. "If you don't go to sleep, you'll wake my mother. And then she won't make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow."

Lambo dropped his gun in horror. Tsuna rubbed his eyes. "Anyway, you need your rest, right? I'm pretty sure you need a certain number of hours of sleep to function like everyone else."

Lambo pouted. "I…can't sleep," he admitted.

Tsuna blinked. "Not used to Japan yet? Miss home? If you want, you can sleep in my room today."

Lambo shook his head. "I'm not a baby!" he insisted. "I, the great Lambo-san, am fearless! People quake in terror when I am nearby!"

_That might be because they're afraid of what you'll destroy_. "Well, I'm impressed," Tsuna said in sleepy amusement, "but I guess I can't help but be a little scared myself."

Lambo's eyes widened. "You're scared?"

"Mhmm." Tsuna half-sat up in his bed and struck a thinking pose. "I mean, what if Reborn tries to attack me while I'm asleep? He's a professional hitman, and then there's just me. I'm all alone…" he said mock-sadly, "with no reinforcements whatsoever."

Lambo frowned. "Budge over," he ordered. "Together, we can kick his ass."

"You sure? I mean, don't feel like you have to help me out, maybe you'd prefer sleeping on your own instead. And he might sneak up on us anyway. Are you willing to risk it?"

Lambo nodded definitively, so Tsuna scooted over to make room. Lambo shoved the TYL bazooka underneath his pillow, "Just in case" he said as he reassured the other. Tsuna arranged the bedspread into a more comfortable position. "It's just for tonight, anyway," Lambo yawned, "so I can get my bearings and put my plans into motion. Reborn's such a meanie…"

"Yeah…"

They both eventually fell asleep, Tsuna's arm curled protectively around his 'younger brother'.

Nana peeked into the room the next morning and awwwed at the scene. Reborn's smile held less of its usual evil intent as he watched the two sleeping quietly. _Maybe the cow will make a fine addition into the Family. It'll be a lot of work before he'll be up to protecting Tsuna as a proper Guardian, but the potential's there. _

Then he proceeded to wake the both of them, Reborn-style. Bring out the electrocution devices. "Clear!" ZZZZZAP!

"AAAAAIE! Just as I expected! Reborn, prepare to face the fury that is LAMBO!"

"REBORN, you SON OF A _GLITCH_!"

_

* * *

_

_Shanghai, China _

The penthouse apartment in possession of the Yang Triad had magnificent views of the city, when it wasn't obscured by the early morning fog. The streets down below were already busting with activity and commerce, and the glow of the oncoming dawn crept through the window to streak across the papers that besieged Ru Wen's desk. The room was designed in such a way to optimise relaxation and calm, a personal space away from home, a temporary refuge of meditation and tranquillity…

"YANG RU WEN, get your ass down here, it's almost breakfast!"

So much for meditation and tranquillity. "OKAY!" Ru Wen hollered back.

The door to the room burst open to reveal the animated figure that is the leader if the Yang Chinese Triad. Ruling with an iron fist and accompanying thunderous voice, the much feared 'Empress', she was also known-

"What, still on the computer? If you don't get enough sleep you'll NEVER GROW TALLER!"

-as Ru Wen's _mother_.

"Ma, it's important," he explained patiently. After all, Tsuna was being groomed as a future mafia BOSS.

Yang Bao crossed her arms. "Alright, but if you're not down soon, there will be consequences. Like any shopping trips for your electronic pursuits being drastically cut short." She twisted around sharply and closed the door with a click. Ru Wen shook his head before shifting aside the data collected from his reports. He idly checked to see if there were any updates on his computer, before he sat up in interest as he spotted a message posted on an online forum he frequented.

_[Message to: __**RWdragon**]_

_[Message from: ****__Yu-Shiang Whole Fish__]_

_Hey RWdragon! Nothing much to type, other than my life's in Yoyo Mode, but when isn't it? I'm still having trouble with that glitch in my system, and I have a definite feeling that there'll be more trouble from that. Not to mention, a couple of bugs cropped up recently, but the usual took place and I was able to deal with them. Needless to say, thoroughly 'bitten to death' comes to mind XD_

_Heard on the net that there's some epic smackdowns taking place between the Utari Guild and the Klahan. Oh, and moocows have come into the picture. WTF is up with that? The whole bagbiting system drives me insane ;P _

_Btw, how's the programming with your new game? Hope it's going well. My considerations to your unit, as well as the different systems. Until next time!_

Ru Wen sat back and marvelled. "Tsuna, way to get past Reborn. Place messages via game forums with our user names and pretend you're just hanging around on the Internet while you pass me information. Go you." It was easy enough for Ru Wen to decode the message, with the technical lingo a parallel to real life situations and things.

Yoyo mode was the state in which the system tends to rapidly alternate several times between up and down. Hence, Tsuna's life in a nutshell. If the Mafia wasn't trying to kill him, they were offering him work. And/or positions in their organisations.

The glitch. Most likely this was referring to Reborn. Who probably wasn't familiar with hacker jargon – he was an assassin after all, not a computer wizard. Though there were all sorts of strange rumours of Reborn having links to famous mathematicians and boxing champs…

Ru Wen made a mental note to keep an eye out for the Utari, an Indonesian based group, along with the Klahan faction in Thailand. There'd been some conflict between the two that might spell trouble.

But it was the 'bugs' comment that made Ru Wen pause. So a couple of assassins turned up, did they? People were always trying to kill his friend. Funnily enough, a number of them had gone on to become allies, which was hilarious when you thought about it. And 'bite to death', courtesy of that Hibari character.

Moocows? The Bovino were in on it? Huh, that was interesting. And the whole bagbiting system comment was obviously about the mafia. (Poor Tsuna, though he was probably used to it by now).

Ru Wen's 'unit' was his family, and the different systems was also all the mafia allies they had between them. He'd pass on the well-wishes later.

Ru Wen was about to type a reply when his Skype program started to ring. He checked out the name and grimaced. _Uh oh…_Trepidation rising, he hit the conversation button and found himself face to face with a rather different Japanese boy. "Hey, Shun," he greeted.

"Ru Wen." There was an uncomfortable silence between them, before Shun raised a slim eyebrow. "Vongola, huh?"

Ru Wen's eyes popped open. Shun smirked. "Japan. Closer contact. I keep an eye out."

The Chinese boy exhaled. "Figures you'd know. Who else?"

He received a wordless shrug for his answer. "Right, that was _very_ helpful." Ru Wen flicked a strand of black hair out of his eyes. "Just so you know, I'm sworn to secrecy."

The Suzuka-gumi heir didn't seem phased by that piece of information. Then again, this WAS Tsuna they were talking about. He liked his privacy, which was unfortunate, seeing as the mafia was intrusive, interfering and had the tendency to gossip like you wouldn't believe.

Tsuna had managed to keep many things he'd done from being connected straight back to him, unless you were 'in the know'. Even Ru Wen or Shun weren't privy to _every_ undertaking their mutual friend had been involved in. And the Vongola had more pressing matters to deal with in the mafia world without examining everything Sawada Tsunayoshi did. This was a bit of a shame, as they'd find some fascinating ventures.

"Shun. If Tsuna's needs assistance, with the exception of Hyun Song, you're closest. Would you-?"

"No need," Shun interrupted. "I've got it covered."

"Right, of course." Ru Wen laced his fingers together in thought. "In any case, we wouldn't want to jeopardise Tsuna's position too early in the game."

"He'll try to keep things quiet as long as possible," Shun murmured. He was right on the mark. "I have to go," the Yakuza heir said suddenly. Ru Wen could already hear the tinny voice from the computer's speakers which sounded suspiciously like '_Shun, you bastard, get back to work!_' Oh dear. Sounds like the more volatile Hideki had found Shun shirking his bureaucratic duties.

"Good to see you're well, in any case," Ru Wen said. "Oh, and Tsuna sends his regards."

Shun mouth morphed into a small smile, and he nodded once before terminating the conversation. He was never one for mincing about with words.

Ru Wen gave a mental shrug, and made to resume his typing, but he paused. He opened up the video program again and called one person who he knew would be discreet and probably already knew about recent events.

There was an answer after merely three rings. "Ru Wen, I've been expecting your call."

"Of course you were." Ru Wen kneaded at his forehead. "Ger', we've got a bit of a problem."

"I'm listening…"

* * *

_Namimori Middle School _

Walking towards the main building, Tsuna stifled a yawn. He'd have to teach Lambo that trying to kill people, while customary in the world of the Mafia, was generally frowned upon in normal society. And would land you in jail. Or at five, in some children's detention centre labelled as a future psychopath. Tsuna didn't really know all that much on the Bovino's, but he told himself that he would look into it, because at this rate, he'd probably be looking after Lambo for an indefinite amount of time.

Hana had taken one look at Tsuna's face and drawled, "Been spending too much time on the computer?"

"Not really, just had guests over."

Hana's eyes flickered to a silver-haired figure overlooking the school from above, and the approaching form of another, before she pat Tsuna on one arm. "I'll guess I'll see you later in class. I think someone wants to talk to you." She waved before leaving for her locker.

"Alright." Tsuna watched her go, a little puzzled by her sudden departure. _Something must be on her mind._

"Yo, Tsuna!" Yamamoto's cheery voice greeted Tsuna's ears as the baseball player jogged forward to walk alongside him. He leant an arm casually on Tsuna's shoulder. "Lack of sleep? You're looking a little under the weather."

_A mafia hitman from another family came to assassinate my hitman tutor yesterday. It was _loads_ of fun. _Tsuna ignored the sarcastic thought, and instead replied with a vague, "Oh, yeah. Something came up yesterday. Nothing to worry about."

Yamamoto's concern melted away into wryness. "Well, so long as you're not sleep-deprived due to studying, that's good." He grinned. "Otherwise I'll lose my maths failure buddy, right?" They both chuckled at that, with Yamamoto elbowing Tsuna good-naturedly.

Meanwhile, on a school balcony, Hayato Gokudera was having a minor apoplectic fit.

"Ah! He elbowed him!" Gokudera was definitely NOT amused. _Damnit, that baseball bastard. Being all clingy to the Juudaime. _He glared down at the dark-haired figure, unwittingly crushing the box of cigarettes he was holding due to the anger welling deep from within.

It was bad enough the guy liked to stick around Tsuna ever since that Infirmary visit for some unfathomable reason, but maybe he too had realised the Tenth's pure awesomeness. That could possibly mean this Yamamoto Takeshi was a likely threat – was it possible he too would vie for the position as the Tenth's right hand man? That would not do _at all_. "Reborn-san," Gokudera asked irritably, "Are you really planning to let him in the family?"

"I'm not planning to, he's already in it. I've decided." The hitman was completely serious.

Gokudera gaped. _Not good!_ He quickly turned back to the two figures, the taller one now ruffling his Boss' hair affectionately. "Agh! He did it again! Damn him!" He twisted back. "Please reconsider, Reborn-san! I object someone so rude like him entering!" It was futile as he gawped at the now sleeping hitman. _Will Reborn not listen to me?_ Gokudera glared down at Yamamoto Takeshi. _I mean, look at him! Cocky, disrespectful, no regards to personal space…_

Gokudera was still new to the concept that is Famiglia, or the idea of himself actually being considered a part of one, but he was more than willing to learn. Tsuna was the first person to accept him, bombs and all, and Gokudera was still stunned at being considered worthy. Not just anyone has the right – no, the privilege – to be a part of _this_ Family. And he had been the first to be considered as such. With this responsibility riding on his shoulders, he was determined to make sure that the other guardians (and Gokudera himself) would be up to the job. They would make Tsuna proud to call them Famiglia.

Gokudera didn't factor baseball idiots into the equation. From the balcony he stared back down at the two figures and glowered. _This will be problematic, won't it?_

_Namimori School Pool_

"So, to satisfy Gokudera, I've decided to hold the 'Family Entrance Test' for Yamamoto." Reborn said this while reclining with a flotation device, assorted water toys (since when did _he_ own a rubber ducky?) and a floating tray of drinks and desserts.

Tsuna was sitting on one of the diving blocks, and looked unamused. "_I'm_ not bloody well satisfied. I mean, you're the one doing all the recruiting for MY 'family'. In fact, you've just gone off and decided things on your own. Yamamoto's my classmate, maybe even a friend, and I'm not going to willingly drag him into the crazy and ruthless world of the mafia, just because you thought it was a good idea!"

Reborn idly sipped his cocktail. "Too late. I had Gokudera call Yamamoto out already."

Tsuna let loose a garbled string of swear words, but Reborn had submerged himself in water by now, and was blissfully unaware of the fact that Tsuna was cursing in no less than five different languages.

He forcibly calmed down. "It's _that_ Gokudera." Meaning homicidal, shove-a-stick-of-dynamite-up-your-ass-Gokudera. There weren't any explosions yet, but it was probably only a matter of time. Hopefully Yamamoto's baseball skills and general athleticism would keep him decidedly 'not dead'.

Tsuna left Reborn to his own devices as he went off in search of his two friends. _I have a bad feeling this kind of thing will become a frequent occurrence. _

* * *

Gokudera's eyes narrowed as he stared at his adversary. Being in Yamamoto's presence, Gokudera could already _feel_ his IQ dropping. And the other just stood there. The tension in the air was palpable that you could have taken a knife to it.

Yamamoto scratched his chin nervously as the other boy circled around him with a fearsome scowl. "Hey, hey, Gokudera… what's up with calling me out and doing a silent showdown?" he grinned in confusion.

A small angry vein throbbed. _What a nasty dude. There's no way someone so weak looking can protect the Juudaime,_ Gokudera thought spitefully. His mind conveniently forgot meeting Tsuna for the first time and marvelling at the short stature and modest nature, because this was Gokudera.

"You should drink some milk. Frustration is usually caused by a lack of calcium." Yamamoto had the gall to wave around a small carton before Gokudera's face with that _stupid_ grin on his face.

The angry vein doubled in size. "That's my limit…" Gokudera muttered darkly as he pulled out several sticks of dynamite. However, his attention was caught by another person. "J-Juudaime!" Gokudera quickly hid his dynamite behind his back as he shouted this aloud; Tsuna wasn't too keen on the whole 'blowing up classmates' thing (_even if they were annoying baseball bastards_).

"Yo," Yamamoto welcomed him, before asking, "Who's that? Your little brother?"

Tsuna twisted around and studied the chibi hitman that had hitched a ride via skateboard and the tied rope around Tsuna's waist. "Ciaossu," Reborn greeted them all.

Tsuna rolled his eyes as he untied the piece of rope. "He's a family friend."

"Not only that," the chibi clarified. "But I'm Reborn, the Vongola Family Hitman."

Tsuna sweatdropped. "Way to keep a low profile…"

"Ha!" Yamamoto laughed as he crouched down to be more level with the Reborn. "I see. Well, I apologise. It must be troublesome to be a hitman at such a young age."

"Not really," Reborn answered. "You're going to join the Vongola Family too."

"Reborn, I've told you to drop it!"

"Come on, he's only a kid," Yamamoto reasoned. "Didn't you do it when you were young too? Pretending to be cops and heroes?"

Tsuna coughed. _Yamamoto, my entire life is cops and heroes __**personified**__. _

_Well, cops and mafia. No pretending needed, I've got the real deal._

Yamamoto hoisted up Reborn onto his right shoulder, his bandaged arm easily lifting him up. "There." Tsuna blinked. He doubted Reborn would ever let him do that ('Manhandling'?) although the chibi hitman enjoyed sitting on Tsuna's head for some reason.

"The Tenth Head of the Family is Tsuna," Reborn told Yamamoto, graciously allowing the elevation of his person onto the teen's shoulder.

"Oh, now that is a good choice of a person," Yamamoto agreed, which caused Tsuna to flush and scratch the back of his head sheepishly. But pushing that thought aside, Tsuna focused on the scheme that Reborn had cooked up. _You may act all harmless and cute,_ he silently fumed,_ but I know your true nature. _

"Okay, sure. Then let me in this Vongola family, too."

"Eh?" Tsuna gaped at this. _Yamamoto, you idiot!_ _You'll never be able to escape now! Don't throw away your future! _

"Tch." Gokudera did not look pleased at the turn of events.

"And what am I supposed to do?" Yamamoto asked.

Reborn smiled innocently. "First, the family entrance test."

Yamamoto's eyebrows rose. "Oh, there's a test? That's pretty legitimate."

"If you don't pass the test, you can't enter the family." Tsuna brightened at this. _Maybe, if Yamamoto doesn't pass the test, he won't be recognised as mafia material! That's great! _"If you don't pass, it equals your death," Reborn stated bluntly. Tsuna instantly scrapped that idea.

"Hahaha, you're seriously funny. I like you." Yamamoto was as his optimistic best, and Tsuna couldn't help thinking, _I seriously suggest that you reconsider that last statement._

Reborn then pulled out two large, semi-automatic rifles. "The test is easy. Simply dodge the attacks."

Tsuna brought up his arms. "No. _No_ way. This is a _stupid_ idea."

"You're right," Reborn said suddenly. Tsuna felt a small spark of hope flare in his chest. "I should start with knives first. Good call Tsuna." The small spark of hope was instantly extinguished as Reborn flung a multitude of knives, though Yamamoto was quick to dodge the incoming weapons.

Tsuna quickly stepped forward. "Hello, you're trying to kill my classmate! Not cool!"

_Kill him, kill him_. Gokudera repeated the mantra over and over in his head.

"Wait up, Tsuna," Yamamoto reasoned. "When we were kids, we played with wooden swords, right? It's all right. I'll stick around."

_Wooden swords? I did no such thing when I was a kid, I was shot at! And he's _still_ treating this as a child's game? _

"As the boss, Tsuna, why don't you show him an example," Reborn said, smirking.

"Sounds good," Yamamoto smiled. "It's a race to see who's going to pass the test." Reborn brought out another bunch of knives, which glinted as the sun's rays hit them. Yamamoto and Tsuna both broke out into a run to avoid the sharp projectiles.

Yamamoto laughed. "Good form!" he cheered. Tsuna sweatdropped. _He looks like he's enjoying this. No, he IS enjoying this. _

Reborn's eyes gleamed. "He's got the skills from training in baseball. His reflexes are great." Gokudera grumbled.

"Recent toys seem so real. Those looked like real knives!"

"That's because they are real knives!"

Tsuna's shrieking was most unbecoming. Reborn changed tactics and brought out a bow-gun.

And of course, the insanity just had to be upped a notch. "Gahahahaha! Found you Reborn!"

"No. Way," Tsuna gasped.

"I am Lambo from the Bovino Family! I shall defeat the super first class hitman Reborn and be recognised for my super special awesome abilities!"

Tsuna was more concerned about the younger boy always being found in high places with dangerous weapons. "Lambo, what are you doing up there? Get down!"

Gokudera raised an eyebrow. "Bovino? Never heard of them. What do you want to do, Reborn-san?" he posed to the chibi-hitman.

"Continue." Reborn started shooting gleefully as Yamamoto and Tsuna scrambled to avoid his attacks.

Lambo sniffed and mumbled "To-ler-ate," before he brightened at a new idea. "Oh yeah! The boss from Italy sent Lambo, who's working hard, a weapon. Ta da~!" he cried as he pulled out a "missile launcher!" He took aim and cried "Die, Reborn!"

The missiles snaked around in the air as Tsuna and Yamamoto sped up to evade them. They harmlessly exploded from behind, briefly lighting up the school grounds with a sharp explosion, accompanied by plumes of smoke. "Phew," Yamamoto exhaled, before grinning. "Looks like if I take it easy I won't be able to pass."

_I REALLY need to talk to the Bovinos. I can just imagine the conversation with the boss already. It's going to be something along the lines of 'Will you stop sending Lambo __**weapons of mass destruction**?__!'_

"Next is a submachine gun," Reborn smiled as he brought out said weapon. Tsuna groaned. "First, the level of a trainee hitman." Reborn let it rip, and the bullets were joined by even more missiles honing in.

"Oh, not _again_!" The explosions were getting really old by now.

"Gokudera," Reborn said as the submachine gun rattled in his hands, "You can go loose, too."

Gokudera visibly started. "But-"

Reborn just smirked. "Think about killing Yamamoto. Like the Nike ad says, 'Just do it'."

Slowly, a pleased grin made its way onto Gokudera's face. _Oh, that's too bad then,_ he reflectedas his fingers selected a few explosives. _Since Reborn-san _did_ suggest it…_

"Juudaime!" he called. It was a minute for Tsuna to register the title was actually referring to him (it took some getting used to), but he turned to look to his self-proclaimed subordinate. Gokudera attempted to send a telepathic message through the mystical bond between boss and right-hand man. _Juudaime, dodge it, please._

Unfortunately, Tsuna ESP abilities must have been taking a well-deserved break. "Eh?"

"Damn it, Reborn! Then I'll use the Ten Year Bazooka!" Another explosion and soon TYL Lambo had the missile launcher leant casually on one shoulder. "Goodness. Looks like I'll have to step in. Again."

"Next is a rocket missile."

"Die."

"Thunder Set."

"What the-" Yamamoto gaped as Tsuna prepared up to run. Incoming dynamite, a multitude of rocket missiles, high voltages and general mayhem abound. The resulting explosion was **enormous**.

Gokudera twitched. _Oh crap, I think I overdid it._ "Juudaime, are you alright?" he cried.

Reborn lowered his weapon. "They're there," he noted calmly. The smoke cleared to reveal Tsuna and Yamamoto side by side. Miraculously, they'd managed to stick together and steer clear of the explosion and bits of shrapnel.

The chibi-hitman smiled with something like pride. "Yamamoto Takeshi, you passed the test. You are now officially a part of the Tenth Generation Vongola Famiglia. Serve honourably and well."

"Thanks," Yamamoto beamed as he dusted at himself. Tsuna was just glad to be alive.

Gokudera strode up to Yamamoto and violently grabbed at the scruff of his shirt. For a minute his face was cloaked in shadow, until he saw the baseball player eye to eye, and smirked. "Good job."

Yamamoto blinked. Gokudera kindly explained. "You stayed with the Juudaime, when you could have forsaken him, so I have no choice but to admit you into the Family. But," he warned, "the right arm of the Boss is me. You'll have to be satisfied as the shoulder blade."

"Sh-shoulder blade?" Yamamoto looked taken aback until he burst out laughing and slung an arm around Gokudera. "I thought so from before, but you're a funny guy!" Then he suddenly sobered up. "But, I don't want to withdraw from being Tsuna's right arm. So, you'll be the ear lobe."

Tsuna did not understand this conversation, or where it was going. _In a sense_, he wondered as he watched the two squabble about their position in the Family, _they're getting along a lot better than usual? More like, these two are already in subordinate mode! _He felt a headache coming on.

"Sorry I can't stay around any longer, I have to go to club practice," Yamamoto informed Reborn. "See ya, Shorty." Then Yamamoto beamed back at Tsuna and Gokudera. "Man, those bombs and toys seem so real. These days technology keeps getting better and better!"

Tsuna facepalmed.

Lambo decided it would probably be for the best if he went back home now. Then maybe Tsuna-nii would forget to scold him and Maman could give him sweets! He left before he could get into trouble.

Gokudera shook his head. "Baseball idiot. Juudaime," he turned to Tsuna, "should you ever change your mind about him being a member of your Famiglia, I'll be happy to boot him out for you!"

"Uh, thanks. I appreciate it."

Could it get any worse? The answer was yes, yes it could.

"Woah…" Tsuna turned around in dismay to find Kyoko's older brother, the upperclassman Sasagawa Ryohei, at the scene. What was creepier about the entire image were the sparkles surrounding him. The _sparkles_. "That was TOTALLY EXTREME!" Ryohei yelled, his aura blazing in the form of flames burning rampantly in the background.

Gokudera pulled a face. "Alright, who the hell is _this_ guy?"

Alternatively, Tsuna was shaking his head in horror. "No, nothing extreme's happened here! Nothing at all!" This comment was rather ruined by the destruction of the grounds.

Ryohei may not have been the most observant of people, but even he wasn't buying it. "What are you talking about? I was called by the extreme boxing champion, MASTER PAO PAO, and I came just in time to see the EXTREME battle taking place on school grounds! I saw EVERYTHING!"

_Master Pao Pao?_ Reborn had that smirk that Tsuna recognised as 'all-according-to-plan'. Tsuna rounded on his tutor. "You **set me up**?"

The chibi-hitman shrugged. "I had my eye on Sasagawa Ryohei ever since he defeated Mochida. And I must say, not only do I have a number of potential recruits for your Famiglia, I'm being sufficiently entertained." Tsuna glared down at him. Reborn had the indecency to be unashamed.

"I HAVE DECIDED!" Tsuna's attention was drawn back to Ryohei, who pointed dramatically at him in a way only epic heroes can execute, "THAT I MUST HAVE YOU FOR MY BOXING CLUB!"

Cue the uncomfortable silence.

"…Juudaime, just say the word and I'll-"

"I think," Tsuna said blandly, "that there were enough explosions for today." He took a deep breath, and Ryohei leant forward in anticipation for his answer. Suddenly Tsuna pointed off somewhere behind the older student. "Oh, look, it's Muhammad Ali!"

"WHERE?" Ryohei screamed, and Tsuna grabbed Gokudera and ran like hounds from Hell were after him while the older student was distracted. If there was one thing Tsuna was good at, it was improvisation. Who knew how many situations he'd managed to escape from using just that?

Seeing no world-famous boxers in sight, Ryohei turned back, mystified, only for his jaw to drop as he realized he was alone. "Sawada, that was NOT EXTREME!" he yelled.

Unfortunately for Ryohei, he was _not alone_. "Herbivore," a terse voice came from behind.

"Ah, Hibari!" Ryohei greeted his classmate. "Have you decided to finally take up my extreme offer to join the boxing club?"

Hibari took note of the damage done to his school. The explosions. The fissures in the ground. The smell of ash and smoke wafting in the air. The herbivore at the scene of the crime.

Any wanton destruction done to Namimori, especially the school, was like a personal slur against Hibari himself. "I'll bite you to death," he hissed as he brought out one tonfa, ready to dish out excessive punishment.

Ryohei was overjoyed that he would be able to have an extreme training workout. Pity the fool.

Reborn continued to plot. _Chairman of the Disciplinary Committee, Hibari Kyouya. Strikes fear into the masses. Superb fighter. Head of his own private militia._ Reborn smirked. _That's prime mafia material. I like what I see. _

And Tsuna decided that this was all proving to be too much. _I'm definitely going to have to involve the uncles on this one_, he thought grimly. _Yeah, like they'll let me _not_ involve them._

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Anon. Reviews Corner

**Anonymous:** Ahaha, thanks, and you're right, I kinda forgot to put a yes option. I think it's because integrating the DWB continuously wouldn't work in my story. Anyway, hope you continue to read and enjoy!

**Meka:** Thanks! I'm glad you especially liked the Tsuna and Lambo interaction, I wanted to explore that relationship, because now Tsuna has a younger, rather boisterous brother.

**Anne:** Hi! Thanks, and I hope you've enjoyed the latest instalment~

**WhoeverIWantToBe:** I try to keep chapters around this length (which I like) because I find short chapters…strange. Word documents make everything look longer. I'm thrilled you liked Hibari's entrance, which naturally involved him beating people up. And thanks for the good luck (I'm going to need it) and I won't be planning to give up on this story, though it may have to be set aside for a duration of time so I can study. However, I do hope to keep the quality up to standards. Thanks again for the lovely review!

**2359Heri:** NO PROBLEM, I LOVE WRITING! And thanks for the review :)

**-Arashi-Storm-Guardian-:** Thank you very much! I like writing my own original twists on the usual, and the Tsuna interacting with Hibari, Kusakabe and the Disciplinary Committee was too interesting an opportunity to pass up. I'm glad I could bring something different and new for you to read. There are quite a few FemTsuna stories out there that are pretty popular, as well as stories centred around OCs (which I'm led to believe would be difficult to write). In any case, I'm thrilled you're enjoying my story and everything :D

**green-road:** Ohoho, I'm pleased you liked it! It was a blast to write, like that flashback – torturing Iemitsu was fun (I'm so cruel, eh?). Originally I had another flashback with a new OC, but it wasn't working, so I brought in Iemitsu and Timoteo instead! (Yeah, Tsuna's in for much mental damage and trauma…) Tsuna and Hibari's arrangement shall hopefully be shown with more depth and interaction later. I was delighted to write such an idea into this story and I figured, if Tsuna was to draw in the mafia, Hibari would 'cash in the benefits' as you so perfectly put it. Ah, I pity Tsuna when he meets Mukuro, that's even more high jinks for him to look forward too!

**Sezony:** It's great to hear you like this! I too think Hana has a lot more potential as a character; it'd be nice to see more of her in fanfics. It's a joy to write more on her – she's perceptive and a great female character to explore. I'm not much a romance writer to be honest, so you probably won't have to worry about it taking centre stage. I didn't set out to write this fic with a pairing in mind, so it's more friendship than anything. Hehe, Hyper Dying Will and X-Gloves will be nice to play around with. Thanks for the review!

**nobody:** Hope you enjoyed this chapter! As for Tsuna, people seem to want him dead just because he exists. But I'll probably explain in more depth later.

**sorry for my english:** I'm glad you like it! Finding Family is a great story – probably more original than mine, given its completely new storyline. I'll have to see how the interaction with Mukuro will be, and it'll take some time before he turns up, but it'll be interesting to write about, no doubt. Thank you or reviewing!

* * *

Author's Note:

I have only one exam left, and I've been sitting on this chapter for a while, so I figured what the heck, let's post it. So, Ryohei warranted his own appearance, and naturally, Hibari wasn't going to be outdone. As for the back story, it was only a matter of time before the Yakuza showed up. And Shun's onto something – try to get Tsuna into your Family as quickly as possible, before everyone else barges into the picture. More of the Mafia and its personalities to come!

Once more, all the feedback is greatly appreciated, and I think you all know your awesomeness, so I won't go into detail on that. Thanks for the poll votes, the reviews, along with everything else, and until next time! (And on a side note: I'm looking forward to introducing those 'uncles'…)


	7. Delinquency and Discussion

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

* * *

The core body of prefects that form the Disciplinary Committee, the nameless individuals that work behind the scenes, the pillars of the Foundation, delinquents and defenders of the peace who break all sorts of laws in the name of a unique brand of justice.

This chapter is dedicated to those men.

* * *

_Orlando, as the younger brother of the Boss of the Dioli Family, did a lot for the good of his folks, even when sometimes he felt that he received the short straw. He was thinking this as the van pulled up at the corner, a mere fifty metres away from Namimori Kindergarten. This would be risky, as the Vongola weren't people you wanted to mess around with too much. "I have to abduct a _kid_," Orlando said wearily. "My brother had better appreciate this." _

_The Vongola Family had forged a deal with a rival mafia family that was putting pressure on the Dioli's drug operations. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He nodded to Corrado, his associate, who would wait in the van ready to drive off at a moment's notice. Orlando then brushed down his grey suit, made sure that he had a handkerchief and chloroform on him in case they were needed, shoved a sweet in his pocket, then started the slow stroll down the street and past the school. _

_Scanning the playground, he bit back a grin. The kindergarten teacher was currently occupied with a few boys scuffling around near the school building. She was too busy settling the spat, and just a little too far away. There were about twelve kids running around outside, but none of them was who he was looking for. No wait, there. To one side of the yard was an old oak tree, and the fourteenth child reading in the shade of it was his target. He hadn't even realised there was anybody there, but now he could make out the brown hair and small figure. _

_It was understandable that Orlando was focused on the task at hand, and wasn't noting down the finer details of the scene. Like just how purposefully detached from everyone else that boy was, and how the tree provided him a modicum of privacy. Instead, Orlando positioned himself in such a way that he was blocked from the teacher's view. The other children were too caught up in their own games to pay attention. Excellent._

_He ruled out sneaking up unaware when the child had looked up at his approach. Instead, Orlando kept a certain distance as to not alarm, and schooled his features to assume the persona of an earnest and very lost foreigner. "Excuse me," he said in halting Japanese, "I'm looking for post office?" _

_Now standing, the book was tucked under one arm as the child pointed to the left. Orlando smiled. "Thank you." His hand dipped into one pocket, brushed past the small bottle of chloroform, and he pulled out a piece of candy. _

"_Here." He stepped closer, arm outstretched with the brightly-wrapped sweet, and the boy took one hesitant step back. The next moment, Orlando was wrestling with the struggling boy and dragging him closer to the gates, one arm clamped over a mouth to muffle any yelling._

_Sawada Tsunayoshi wasn't making things easy, Orlando thought grimly as he received a sharp elbow to the gut. He was about to reach for the chloroform or scamper for the van, but suddenly he was subjected to a burst of excruciating pain. "Oh for the love of God, it BURNS!" he cried, automatically releasing the kid in order to clutch at his eyes. _

_Tsuna quickly pocketed the can of pepper spray and, as an afterthought, kicked the man currently writhing on the floor ("You bastard!" the irate Mafioso screamed, reaching out blindly and missing) before making a run for it. _

_Hearing the shriek of pain, the well-meaning if inexperienced young Manami-sensei paled as she ran towards the source of the noise. "Tsu-chan!" _

_He was already in front of her as he pointed to the gates. "A stranger offered me candy," was all that needed to be said for Manami-sensei to start contacting the police. _

_As Orlando had been making his move, the getaway driver lit a cigarette. Corrado had sat in the white van for less than a minute before he was aware of someone watching. He looked through his open window to see a small boy with dark hair openly eyeballing him. He stared down weirdly. "Ya want anything, kid?" _

_The boy's glare intensified as he raised a hand to point at a nearby sign. "Parking here is not allowed." Then his eyes rested briefly on the cigarette clutched in the man's fingers. "Smoking is also not allowed."_

_The driver groaned inwardly. Law-abiding youths, just what he needed. What happened to the good old days of troublemaking, felonious children running free and creating havoc? "Listen, I'll be gone in a few minutes, no sweat." _

_A scraping sound got his attention, and he quickly poked his head outside of the window. Another young boy with a twig clutched in his mouth was currently scratching into his paint job with the edge of a key. Law-abiding youths indeed. _

"_Why you little-" Corrado got out of the van, ready to give these stupid brats a piece of his mind, only to yell in pain as a small foot grinded into his shoe, possibly crushing a bone or two in the process. Swearing, he shoved the small boy back and reached to his belt for the switchblade he owned, only to drop it after the larger boy tackled him from behind with more force than a six year old should have. Corrado got up and kicked him away, before turning around to face the first boy. _

_He was winded by a blow to the gut, then Corrado received a face full of van door as it swung violently and knocked him out cold. _

_Hibari Kyouya watched the _gaijin _slump to the floor, and calmly closed the door of the van's driver seat. Meanwhile, the six years old Kusakabe Testuya flipped open his newly-acquired switchblade and finished his etching on the side of the vehicle, '_K and T was here'_. He silently offered the weapon to Hibari, who accepted it gravely. '_Namimori rules_' was added above it, along with the kanji underneath that read '_Death to Herbivores_'. _

_The police later made their appearance to arrest a man and his accomplice under the suspicious circumstances of attempted abduction. They didn't take too kindly to the idea of possible child molesters, especially when some of the police officers had their own young children enrolled in school. _

_As it were, Tsuna was hanging out in the teacher's office with two older boys. "Is it true that your 'tou-san's a mafia thug?" Kusakabe asked in awe. _

_Tsuna nodded while Hibari walked over to the teacher's desk and started rifling through its contents. "Stupid teacher," the boy muttered as he searched the drawers. "She should be fired. Namimori has no room for more herbivores." He looked to Tsuna slyly. "Shall I bite her to death?" _

_Tsuna's eyes widened. "Manami-sensei's already in shock. You're actually going to do that?" _

_From Manami-sensei's desk, Hibari pulled out his old pair of practice tonfas, the ones that she had confiscated from him last year. "Just watch me."_

"_You know," Kusakabe quickly changed topic, "they're trying to keep this things under wraps so it doesn't get out and scare people, but this was still the first kidnap attempt of Tsuna." He turned to the boy. "How'd you get your guy?" _

_Tsuna's hands fidgeted nervously at the question. "Pepper spray," he confessed. _

_Hibari paused. Both he and Kusakabe looked at the small kindergartner, rather impressed with their younger _kohai_. "We must celebrate your show of backbone," was all Hibari said. _

_They had a pleasant conversation ("Hibari-sempai, did you really hit a mobster with a door?") while Orlando found himself holed up in a jail cell. Shocked, angry, pride destroyed, despairing at his failure and the underestimation of the son of the Vongola Young Lion. What kind of boy carried around pepper spray? The son of a mobster, that's what. _

…_And to add insult to injury, the Sawada brat took that piece of fucking candy! _

**

* * *

**

The Mafia Wants You!

By swordsmagician

Target 007: Delinquency and Discussion

_Song Bakery  
Namimori, Japan _

Hyun Song had grown up with a less-than-usual childhood. Having a grandfather who was an assassin and thought that walking over _red-hot coals _was character building may have had something to do with it. But it was because of this that he could really empathise with Tsuna.

He hummed under his breath as he packed away one of the finished cakes into its box and placed it to one side. There had been an influx of orders for pastries, and his bakery was closed for the day as he went through them all. The business wasn't large, but it had a reputation for some truly delicious food. Right now he was waiting for Tsuna, who normally came to work early, but was cutting it close today. Between the two of them, the orders would be done in no time. And Hyun would casually inquire about how things were at home. He'd been surprised when Tsuna had turned up insanely early one morning, with a bag full of things he wanted to stash at Hyun's place and the news that Reborn had been spotted by the Volkov booking a flight to Japan.

Hyun Song had experienced a mild heart attack. Then he'd taken Tsuna's bag, hidden it away in the back of his wardrobe, and made a very strong pot of tea. Even now, the thought of one of the Arcobaleno residing at the same house as his honorary nephew was worrying.

Perhaps the Vongola had wised up to the fact that Tsuna had hacked into their databases multiple times?

…There were all sorts of things wrong with your adoptive nephew having contact with the mafia since the age of five.

The small bell attached to the entrance doors of the bakery rang gently, and Hyun made his way to the front of the shop, snagging a tea towel to wipe his hands along the way. "Sorry, we're closed at the mo-" He paused and stared at the customer.

The attractive young woman was in a singlet top befitting the weather, paired with leather pants. Long hair framed a pale oval face and distinct European features. Altogether this made one rather stunning picture, but Hyun Song was more alarmed by the tattoo on the woman's upper left arm, a scorpion with a heart as the stinging tail.

The Poison Scorpion focused on Hyun, but she didn't move from her position, which was just a foot in the threshold. Instead, she smiled. "Are you the owner of this establishment?"

"Indeed I am. Would you like to order anything?" he asked carefully.

"Actually, I'm looking for somebody." The young woman fished out a crumpled photo from her pocket and lifted it up for him to see. "I believe Sawada Tsunayoshi is an employee of yours?" Hyun immediately recognised the picture, taken last year at a school festival. Tsuna had tried to duck out of the photo, but there he was, form slightly blurred from his position near a Sakura tree.

Hyun plastered a polite smile onto his face. "I'm afraid that I'm the only worker here at the moment," he answered vaguely, as a hand started to drift towards a nearby breadknife.

Bianchi gave a light sigh. "Such a shame. My apologies for wasting your time." She turned around to leave.

"One moment." Behind the counter and away from any prying eyes, a hand callused from martial arts and years of cooking slowly grasped that knife's handle. "Out of idle curiosity, why are you looking for Tsuna?"

The woman looked over her shoulder at him. "It's really none of your business," she remarked.

Hyun Song's smile grew cold. "Oh, you've made it my business."

Her eyes narrowed, and then Hyun ducked to avoid the platter of poison cooking that hurtled towards him. He rapidly threw the bread knife in her direction; Bianchi upturned a nearby table to cover her, and the blade was driven into the wooden surface by force alone. Hyun was already reaching for his trusty wok. He'd feel so much better once he'd taken care of this.

Bianchi brought up the table, holding it by its legs as an impromptu barrier as she pelted him with contaminated rice balls. Bianchi held her ground, but was surprised as a flurry of white powder descended from above. _Flour?_ she thought, before gasping and stepping back quickly.

Flour has a tendency to explode because of two characteristics – chemically as it is a carbohydrate, and physically because it's able to form dust clouds. The danger lies in the cloud, as the highly flammable form causes the tiny grains to alight with just the smallest spark. Airborne particles burn and set off a chain reaction, and an explosive wave of fire is able to move through the flour-dusted air.

This is exactly what happened, and it forced Bianchi back, compelling her to discard the table that had been her improvised shield. She'd just missed the blast, but the ends of her hair were slightly singed. She shook it back and scowled. "Sawada Tsunayoshi needs to die," she said simply.

"Over my dead body," Hyun answered, the sweet smile on his face remaining as it was.

Bianchi smirked as she readily brought up another poison cooking platter. "That can be arranged."

_

* * *

_

Sawada Household

Reborn would be lying if he wasn't feeling a little concerned. His time at the Sawada Household had exposed him to some peculiar things. Like the fact that all three people that held the last name were walking contradictions.

Iemitsu was in the mafia, remained ever-faithful to his wife, wasn't around all that much due to work, and regularly sent his paycheques back home. Nana didn't pry into the work of her significant other, had an intrinsic trust in her husband and son, and balanced family with charity work, friends and study while keeping a sniper rifle in the linen closet. Then again, she's been married to a mafia man for over a decade, so Reborn wasn't too fazed by the fact that Nana wasn't as dense as she portrayed herself. In fact, he approved.

Then there was Tsunayoshi. Reborn was starting to realise that nothing was clear-cut when it came to that boy.

Before even setting foot on Japanese soil, Reborn had already created a profile on his student from the information he had available. Everything from school records and teacher's comments to the people Tsuna associated with.

He had started from early childhood. The kindergarten teacher, one Manami-sensei, wrote: _Tsunayoshi is a quiet boy, always friendly and civil. His reading and writing skills are competent, yet Tsuna-chan is prone to daydreaming, and his interaction with the other children is average at best. I recommend that he learns to socialise more and open up to his peers. _

This consolidated Reborn's view that Tsuna had been a bit of a loner. This seemed to have abated, at least a little, in later reports. Indeed, one written note in Tsuna's file mentioned a 'Kyo-kun' and 'Tetsu-kun', however, the teacher made no such mention of the two afterwards, and the rest of Tsuna's early childhood reports were irksome and held no more useful information. Well, except for an additional note about a man being arrested near the kindergarten when Tsuna was five years old. Reborn made a mental note to ask about it sometime.

Strangely enough, the only other thing worth mentioning was that the kindergarten teacher had transferred to another town after one of her previous students had bitten her.

Reborn moved on. Tsuna's elementary school reports painted the picture of a boy generally left alone – indeed, Reborn wondered if teachers or fellow students even knew he existed half the time. Tsuna wasn't present in any of the photos on the Namimori school website, hadn't won any awards. The only thing that stood out was the boy's truanting record. Reborn wondered what Tsuna was doing when he sporadically missed school.

There was a distinct Vongola presence in town – there were people at the airport who kept an eye on any travel arrangements, and the five-star hotel in Namimori fell under Vongola ownership. However, this helped little in Reborn's investigation. They were only nearby in the case of an emergency, and unless the Vongola said otherwise, they were prohibited from interacting with the Sawada family. Iemitsu did not want his wife and son to be tailed or to have their lives and freedom imposed on by the mob.

Reborn half-wished it were not the case. A lot of the information he had received was now being called into question. He would be better off to leave it to one side and start over. Or better yet, confront his student about it sometime.

He waited for Nana to leave for her book club meeting, Lambo in tow. Then he whipped out his gun and shot at the ceiling a few times. If the following thumps above were any indication, Tsuna was already awake, and hopefully didn't have a bullet lodged in his foot. If he did, it was the boy's own fault for not paying any attention to his surroundings.

Tsuna came downstairs, dressed for the summer heat and completely bullet-free. "You're wearing a suit in this weather?" the boy said in disbelief as he shoved a piece of toast in his mouth. "Later it's going to be what, thirty degrees outside?"

"A Mafioso must always be impeccably dressed," was Reborn's answer as the boy washed down his breakfast with orange juice. "Going anywhere?"

"I have work," Tsuna said as he shoved his keys into one pocket.

"A future mafia boss shouldn't be working part-time in a small bakery. What will the other Dons think?"

"Stuff those Dons."

Reborn shrugged. "It is unusual, but I'm far from against the idea of acquired culinary knowledge. Vongola Quarto relinquished his vision of becoming a professional chef for the Vongola title. Be sure to bring me back something nice," he added.

Tsuna blinked from the entrance, where he had been putting on his shoes. "You're not coming?"

"You mean you're inviting me?" Reborn was quick to respond. "How kind of you Tsunayoshi. If that is the case, I cannot _possibly_ refuse your invitation."

"No, wait, that's not what I-" Tsuna stopped mid-sentence. "Whatever. If you are coming, then let's go."

Everyone seemed to have retreated inside to escape the coming heat, so the streets were empty. He closed and locked the door as Reborn jumped onto Tsuna's shoulder. "So, you're running late. Told you that Lambo didn't need a bedtime story. Are you going to take a shortcut to get to work?"

Tsuna bounced on the soles of his feet, testing his light running shoes. "Sort of. Reborn-san, you might want to hold onto something," he warned.

Reborn had to grasp onto his fedora and Tsuna's shirt collar as the boy started sprinting off in one direction, while Leon curled himself snugly around Reborn's neck to avoid flying off. "Parkour," Tsuna began as he did a speed vault over a small fence, "is the physical discipline of training – to overcome any obstacle within one's paths – by adapting movements to the environment." His pauses coincided with his jumps and runs, and he paused in his dialogue to perform an underbar move to get between two dustbins before continuing. "The objective is to get from one place to another – using only the human body and the objects in the environment. Simply put, it gets me from A to B as I travel in a straight line."

After numerous vaults, running jumps, rolls and wall passes, Tsuna jumped down behind a bakery. "It's very useful when I'm running late for school," he said, breathing slightly harder than usual. _Oh, and assassins, can't forget that._

Reborn's curiosity was roused as he leapt down onto the asphalt. "How did you get into it?"

Tsuna let out a brief chuckle. "I was really clumsy as a kid. Tripping all over the place, running into walls, falling down the stairs, that sort of thing. Okaa-san's parents enrolled her into dance classes to help with her balance when she was younger, so I picked up breakdancing, and after a trip to France I got into parkour."

"I was wondering if you did have some practice in parkour after seeing your fight with Gokudera. Running off that brick wall made me wonder. And the breakdancing?"

"It was either that or ballet. And I'm no Billy Elliot."

* * *

The bakery had seen cleaner days. Flour had been tracked all over the floor, and smatterings of poisonous cooking were smeared across the walls. Bianchi struggled to free herself from the cocoon of bread dough that was currently trapping her body. It was useless; the stuff was too constrictive, though if she could _just_ manoeuvre her arms a little to reach some poison cooking to deteriorate her bindings… She glared at her foe. "Why not just kill me and get this over with?" she hissed.

"My vocation is baker and chef, not assassin," Hyun Song said breezily as he spun his wok in one hand. "Besides, I thought it best to settle this with no deaths on my conscious. Do you know how difficult it is to get bloodstains out of these tiles?"

Bianchi's eye twitched.

"And after our little fight I'm going to have to clean the place all over again," Hyun sighed. Looking around at his less-than-immaculate shop, his eyes rested on the large bread oven that took up one wall of the kitchen. "You know," he mused, "I always wondered if this oven was able to fit a person."

"You wouldn't _dare_."

"I'm kidding! The last thing I want is to bring upon myself the wrath of the Namimori Health Authorities." Hyun shoved his mobile phone into his pocket, planning to go outside and make a phone call. He had only stepped out the back when he saw Tsuna and the baby in the suit.

That was also when Reborn's attention was diverted from his student to the arrival of a Korean man dressed in a chef's uniform.

There was flour in Hyun's wispy black hair and a smudge of bread dough on his face. "Ah, Tsuna, I was wondering when you were going to arrive," he said.

"Hyun-jisan," Tsuna said with a slightly strained voice. "Sorry I'm late." He turned to the baby. "I suppose introductions are in order. Reborn-san, this is my adoptive uncle, Hyun Song. Hyun-jisan, this is my tutor, Reborn."

Hyun replied as his eyes met the dark, fathomless gaze that belonged to Reborn. "Tsuna," he said calmly, "if I could have a word with your tutor? You can go in first, but mind the body."

Reborn and Tsuna both frowned at this, but Tsuna left his tutor and adoptive uncle to have their little chat.

The first thing Tsuna saw when entering the bakery was the skillet lodged in the wall. He then had to poke his head back outside after he saw the shape of the bakery. "Hyun-jisan, why is there an assassin immobilised on the kitchen floor?"

"She was looking for you," Hyun called back, his eyes not leaving Reborn's. "Just stay away from her, leave the mess alone, and especially keep away from the toxic kimchi, okay?"

"Got it," was Tsuna's distant reply.

Hyun then spoke to the chibi-hitman. "Reborn. I believe this is the first time we've met."

"That is correct," Reborn answered. Leon shifted from his position to climb back onto the fedora. "I'll admit, I was surprised when I did a few background checks here. We've never met, though I was acquainted with your grandfather." Hyun's features were politely blank as Reborn continued. "I also recall a comrade of mine who mentioned you in passing once. Something about an annual underworld Junior Chef competition. Have you had much contact with Fon?"

"Not really," Hyun replied. "Though I've been told that his student might visit Namimori sometime in the future."

Though the two of them were courteous, both sides were far from relaxed with the other. For now, they were reserving judgement and being civil. But their conversation was interrupted as the sounds of clashing steel and thrown liquids abruptly greeted their ears.

Bianchi soon was sent flying out of the bakery, followed by Tsuna reappearing at the doorway. "First you people turn up at my home. Now you turn up at my workplace. Well, I have HAD it with these _motherfucking assassins in this motherfucking town_!" Tsuna fumed.

Evidently there was only so much accumulated anxiety a fourteen year old could take before they had the urge to let some of it out. While brandishing a spatula in a hostile manner.

Bianchi slowly tottered to her feet. "Why you- Reborn!" she exclaimed joyfully, momentarily forgetting Tsuna. "I'm here to bring you back!" she teared up. "Let's do another job together. Oh, when I heard that you went to Japan to coach the Vongola Decimo-"

"_What_?" Hyun Song hissed. An aggravated groan came from Tsuna.

"-I knew I had to come over post-haste. A peaceful place doesn't suit you – the place you should be is the dark world where it's more dangerous and thrilling."

Reborn's attention flickered to Tsuna before they turned away. "I told you Bianchi. I have a job to raise Tsuna, so I can't." Reborn's eyes met Tsuna's again, only this time the sadistic gleam was impossible to miss. _He's enjoying this _way_ too much_, Tsuna thought irritably, as he disappeared back into the shop.

Bianchi's eyes shadowed. "Poor Reborn," she said, wiping away a stray tear. "Unless the Juudaime dies due to an accident or something, Reborn won't be free again."

Hyun pointedly lifted his wok and said, "Not on my watch," but Bianchi ignored him to turn back to Reborn. The baker rolled his eyes. "You know what," he said to himself as Bianchi looked adoringly at the chibi-hitman, "Forget this, I'm just going to go inside now…"

He found Tsuna sitting on a stool in the kitchen. "Sorry about the outburst," Tsuna mumbled. "The assassination attempts don't usually get to me too much, but I've been on edge with Reborn around."

"I can understand why." Hyun Song pulled up another stool and sat on it as he peered at Tsuna. "First thing's first, are you alright? Any lasting injuries? Problems? Mental trauma?"

Tsuna smiled slightly at Hyun's concern. "All thing's considered, I'm fine. Mostly fine," he admitted as Hyun Song crossed his arms, "like anything's new after all's said and done. I guess Reborn hasn't been _all_ bad."

_Sure, he's brought all sorts of problems with him, _Tsuna wondered,_ but all sorts of other things too. Gokudera grows on you once you warm up to him, and Lambo's voracious but he's not that bad a kid. Okaa-san thrives when she's channelling her energy into something and her smiles are more frequent and less wistful when she's busy. Stay optimistic, Tsuna. _

"About Reborn," Hyun said slowly, the name rolling off his tongue as Tsuna came back to earth. "I was worried when you informed me that he was coming, but if the Vongola found-" he halted. "Vongola Decimo. _That's_ what this is about?"

Tsuna raised his hand sardonically. "You are now looking at the next possible successor of the Vongola. No pictures please."

Hyun raised his own hand to cover his face. "Things have just gotten a hell of a lot more complicated."

"Tell me about it." Tsuna's face grew pensive. "Do, uh, Petrov-jisan or Jerome-jisan know about this yet?"

"No, I'll call them later. Tsuna, it's for the best that they hear it from me," he said as the teenager started shaking his head and mouthing _bad idea_. Hyun's voice, already quiet so as not to reach any unwanted ears, lowered even further. "Or would you rather they found out from someone else? Verde, perhaps?"

Tsuna shuddered. "Oh gods no, anything but that."

"That's what I thought. Anyway, what have you been up to since we last saw each other?"

The Japanese teen started listing. "Well, Reborn turned up, a teenage hitman came over from Italy to try to kill me and later appointed himself my right-hand man, I befriended a teenage baseball player with mad skills, I've had to reduce my time keeping in contact with allies, my friend was shot and accidentally tried to kill my mother, a child assassin defied the laws of time and space and tried to kill Reborn, some people tried to kill me, and Reborn's recruiting subordinates for my unwanted mafia career."

Hyun Song stared at Tsuna. "Of all the people I have ever met," he said lightly, "you are by far the most highly-ranked when it comes to attracting trouble."

"Sad but probably true." He stood up and stretched before noticing the cake box that lay on the counter, miraculously untouched. "Is this one of the finished orders?" he said.

"A Miura-san put in an order yesterday."

Tsuna took out one of the bags to keep cakes cold when delivering them. "I can drop it off now if you want, I think I need to chill," he said. "Of course, knowing my luck someone's going to attack me along the way," he muttered while stepping outside with Hyun, the cakes in one hand.

Reborn was putting away a small phone into an inner pocket. Tsuna walked towards him. "So, I take it you know Bianchi?" he asked.

"That's right," Reborn said evenly. "Bianchi loves me. We went out at one point."

Well, that was slightly disturbing. "…She's your ex-girlfriend?"

Reborn shrugged. "I'm popular with women. Bianchi was my lover. Fourth one," he indicated with his fingers.

Tsuna looked to Bianchi, who was humming cheerfully as she wheeled a bicycle to lean it against the building. "I guess lethal food and flirting with danger comes with the territory?"

"Perhaps. Seems to me like you know of the Poison Scorpion's fearsome reputation," Reborn said cannily.

"Freelance hitman, poison cooking, instant death. With an uncle like Hyun-jisan, you hear about all sorts of crazy chefs in the industry." Tsuna shouldered his load gently. "I'm delivering an order to momentarily get away from the action. Try not to shoot anything."

"I make no promises."

That was probably the best he could get from Reborn at this point.

"Tsunayoshi." Tsuna caught the can of soda thrown at him. Bianchi shrugged gracefully. "Sorry about trying to kill you earlier. Forgive me?" she said, smiling charmingly.

Tsuna returned her smile as he gingerly pocketed the drink. "Sure," he said sweetly. "How thoughtful of you to resolve things like this. I'll be sure to spike Reborn's drink with it later."

Reborn's mouth twitched in amusement at Tsuna's droll commentary.

"You know," Bianchi said as she rested a hand on her hip, "before it was personal, now it's just annoying."

"I know exactly what you mean," was Tsuna's mild reply. "Even if you did kill me, Reborn's reputation suffers for it and the Vongola goes ballistic. Hardly a win-win situation." Tsuna sent her a 'what can you do?' expression before walking off towards the Miura household.

The three people looked at one another doubtfully in Tsuna's wake. Hyun Song brushed at his apron. "Maybe we should go inside instead of standing in this heat. Do you promise not to murder anybody or try to destroy my kitchen?" he asked Bianchi.

The woman exhaled before nodding. "Cook's honour. I'll even help with the mess I caused, just to show that I mean it."

"Thanks, that's very kind of you." He gestured for both Reborn and Bianchi to go inside. "I don't know about you two," he said, "but I could really use a cup of tea right now."

_

* * *

_

DC Warehouse Five  
Namimori, Japan

The Disciplinary Committee was a force to be reckoned with, especially when their leader took the form of the esteemed, generally feared Hibari Kyouya. Hibari was the aloof, determined chairman with Namimori as his primary territory, though his reputation and influence exceeded it.

However, it would be prudent to remember Kusakabe Tetsuya, the second-in-command who played a vital role in the day to day running of the faction. The organisation of rosters and patrol timetables, finance management of the DC expenses, turf wars against the delinquents of Kokuyo, he'd dealt with it all. Kusakabe is the right-hand man, secretary, personal assistant and friend all rolled into one.

He's also Hibari's cousin, but most people don't talk about that.

Kusakabe had a rather unusual position. Hibari has always been one for solitude, but he could endure contact with Kusakabe, as well as their younger classmate, Tsunayoshi. That there was a strange combination, even he had to admit. Sometimes Kusakabe wondered if Tsuna's magnetism for trouble and people who _were_ trouble had any bearing on his character.

In any case, Hibari had made it clear that, though he couldn't be bothered to deal with the herbivores, he expected the DC to discover what they could. Now Kusakabe had seven mercenaries on his hands, and they weren't talking.

Warehouse Five was just one of the places Hibari had managed to set aside for the committee's private use. It was no more than a collection of rooms strung together along a corridor – Warehouse One was their main storage facility, given that it was located within close proximity to Hibari's own home.

Kusakabe looked to the core members of the Disciplinary Committee before him. All were standing to attention. "Alright, you know what to do," he said. "Matsushita, fetch the leeches; Ueno, gloves and tongs; Taka, Kita, keep an eye on our guests and ensure they're tied down securely. Watanabe and Hamasaki, I need you to set up the projector and screen in Room Three." His dark eyes inspected the boys before him. "And should our guests fail to assist in our investigations, you all have my permission to step up your questioning."

Hamasaki indicated he had a question, and stepped forward. "Vice-Chairman, I was called to apprehend these men, yet I am not aware of their transgressions. However, the others have told me that there has been another attempt on Sawada's life. Is this true?"

Kusakabe stared at them sternly. "I will not lie to you. These men came to Namimori with the sole purpose of dealing with Sawada, one way or another. Luckily they did not take their mission as seriously as we take ours. We need to know who's calling the shots behind this incident."

He let them mull over his words. While Sawada Tsunayoshi wasn't the most high-profile of residents in Namimori – indeed, he strove for the very opposite – the boy was highly regarded amongst this group, and the prefects looked to one another and nodded. They liked Tsuna, his association with Hibari notwithstanding. Therefore, they were going to enjoy messing around with these assassins. 'Psychological warfare' was to be their watchword.

In Room One, Matsushita clinically pulled on his rubber gloves, before removing the cover of the tank beside him with a flourish. "We can do this the easy way…" Ueno inserted the tongs into the tank to pull out a black, wriggling leech. "…Or we can do this the hard way."

The assassin strapped down on the metal table took one look at the slimy bloodsucker and whimpered. The two assassins on either side of him recoiled. After all, it's not every day that you're terrorised by teenage delinquents with Regent hairstyles.

In Room Two, the prefects Kita and 'Taka' Takahashi were debating – in excruciating detail –what they were planning to do with the three assassins under their charge.

"How about we start by pulling off their toenails, one by one? I'm sure the tweezers are around here somewhere."

"Not enough suffering Kita. I propose sacrificing their bodies for art. I can use them as canvases."

"Taking after your father and training as a tattoo artist, eh Taka?"

"Naturally." Taka pushed up the sleeves of his black jacket as his hands hovered over the assortment of needles, ink and tattooing equipment laid out on the table. "Everyone knows that the Irezumi technique must be done by hand, however painful and time-consuming, and I need all the practice I can get." He picked up one dangerously sharp needle and admired its shine in the light.

The assassins collectively paled while Kita's grin widened. "Now," Kita said as he drew up a sheaf of papers and shoved them into the assassins' faces, "all we need to decide are the designs. Who's first?"

Taka drew closer, the needles clutched in his hands. "No need to worry," he assured the three as he loomed over them forebodingly. "I'm a professional."

Room Three was housing what they had agreed was the leader of the little band of criminals. Watanabe shined the yellow light of the lamp into the assassin's eyes as Kusakabe leaned forward to stare at the man. "We'll ask again. Who do you work for?"

Their captive chuckled weakly. "A bunch of teenagers, interrogating me? I'd like to see you try boys."

Kusakabe shifted the twig in his mouth to one side and said mockingly, "We shall see. After all, we're the ones that have kept you here. After you had your asses handed to you by other teenagers, no less."

The two prefects behind him made sure that the straps holding the man in place were secure, and then taped his eyes to keep them open. The man shifted about, trepidation rising. "What are you doing?" The projector and screen were in place, and Hamasaki used the remote to start the video. They then quickly vacated the room, Kusakabe solemnly closing the door behind him.

After a few minutes of muffled sounds, the screaming started; hoarse, hysterical yelling. Kusakabe leant against the wall, eyes closed in deliberation. "He's the toughest nut to crack, so we upped out standards. What video is he viewing?"

The disciplinary member next to him looked vaguely unsettled. "Um, I borrowed one from my older sister. Apparently this particular one is rather… graphic."

Kusakabe winced ever so slightly. "Ayako-san is rather fanatical about these videos of hers?"

Watanabe looked even more untroubled. "I've been told failure to return it in its pristine condition will conclude in me being 'hoisted up by my own petard'."

The screams from the room faltered, before dying off. Watanabe cautiously peeked into the room, but not before one click from the remote disconnected the screen and its subject matter. "Vice-Chairman, he seems to have fainted."

"I think he's been mentally scarred enough. How's everyone else?" Kusakabe enquired.

There was the sound of a closing door and Ueno appeared in the corridor, a pair of tongs still clutched in one hand. "Our guys are confessing as we speak. Matsushita's getting their ramblings down." He pulled off one rubber glove. "Bit of a shame actually. We were betting how many leeches it'd take for one of 'em to pass out first. A guy clocked in after only ten."

"That's nothin'." Kita popped out of Room Two and joined in the conversation. "Something tells me these guys aren't exactly high up on the criminal food chain, not if they're intimidated by a budding tattooist. They should be glad we didn't do any lasting damage."

Kusakabe shook his head, amused by the antics, before returning to the task at hand. "All right, what have we learned so far?"

Ueno stretched his arms. "I've got some background info. These guys are hired guns, not notorious. They owed the Dioli Family a favour, and here they are."

"Dioli?" Kusakabe muttered. "It's been a while since I've heard from them."

Matsushita's head peered out into the dim corridor. "Thought I heard your voice, Vice-Chairman. What should we do with our guests? The usual?"

"Yes. We've already searched their possessions, and we can drop them off later at the police station so they can be deported out of the country. But before that," Kusakabe said as another thought dawned on him, "someone track down and bring over Gokudera Hayato."

"The new student?" Hamasaki wondered aloud. "He's been hanging around Sawada ever since he transferred."

"You want to bring him into this, Vice-Chairman?" Watanabe asked warily.

Kusakabe smirked. "These assassins should be taken to Sawada so they can apologise for all the trouble they've caused here." The smirk widened. "That sounds like the job of a right-hand man, don't you think?"

* * *

Tsuna's journey this time was nice and uneventful, the only thing unusual being a number of dead crows found strewn along the way. The address of the Miura residence was actually one that Tsuna would sometimes pass by on his morning walk to school.

He pressed the bell, and was soon greeted by a girl his age, wearing a pale blue dress and with dark hair brought up in a ponytail. She blinked. "Hahi, you're not Ayako-sempai!"

Ayako was the young lady that Hyun Song had hired to deliver his shop's orders in Namimori. She was also the prefect Watanabe's older sister, who attended Midori Middle School. Tsuna smiled politely. "She's going to deliver the other orders later, but Hyun-jisan had your ready so I thought I'd drop them by."

"Ah!" The dark-haired girl hit the palm of her hand with her fist. "You must be Sawada-kun! Ayako-sempai talked about you once. Hi, I'm Miura Haru!"

"Nice to meet you. I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi." Tsuna took out the boxes from his bag. "So, that's one strawberry cheesecake and one chocolate mousse cake, right?"

"Exactly, thanks!" Haru said brightly as she handed over the money and accepted her sweets. "No Death Note marathon is ever complete without cake!"

"Death Note, huh? That sounds like a good plan. Hope you enjoy watching it!"

After Tsuna headed back to the bakery, Haru stared down at the cakes and smiled to herself. "Maybe, one day, I can share some cake with that cute baby I saw!" she squealed.

* * *

"Glad you could come," Kusakabe said evenly. "There are some things we need to discuss."

Gokudera grimaced at the older boy. "If you called me out here for a fight, I can take you on. And your cohorts," he said shortly, eyes resting on the disciplinary members loitering around the place.

Kusakabe's eyes crinkled. "Gokudera Hayato, Class 1A of Nami-chuu." Gokudera's eyes narrowed as two prefects came out of the nearby warehouse, each dragging a man between them. "I wanted to know if you were aware that a group of men tried to assassinate Sawada Tsunayoshi not too long ago."

Suspicion gave way to horror and outrage as Gokudera turned to the assassins furiously. "They tried to-"

Kusakabe raised a hand patiently. "We were able to take care of things. Rest assured, they've been properly chastised."

Gokudera looked at him in disbelief, and then down at one of assassins; a man was rocking back and forth in a small crouch. "What the hell did you guys do?"

The disciplinary members present immediately looked to one another shiftily. It was Ueno who opened his mouth. "He was forced to watch extremely graphic gay po-"

"On second thought," Gokudera said hurriedly, "I really don't want to know what torture you put him through."

The prefects nodded wisely.

Gokudera was half-torn between berating himself for failing as a right-hand man, and shoving a stick of dynamite down the throats of these sorry excuses for assassins.

Kusakabe looked at the boy and suppressed a smile. For all Gokudera's brashness and quick temper, this one had his heart on the right place. "We're taking them to apologise to Sawada. At this time, he'll be working at the Song Bakery, we can take you there," he announced.

The silver-haired bomber assessed the older student. He'd seen some of the influence the Disciplinary Committee had in Namimori. He might not have been very happy about contract killers getting past his radar, but it was good to know that he wasn't the only one looking out for the Tenth.

And there was something about Kusakabe that agreed with his sensibilities. He dredged up what little information he knew about the other, then remembered Kusakabe being referred to as 'Vice-Chairman' at school. And something about working underneath a Hibari-san.

Well, that cinched it. As respective second-in-commands to powerful people, they had to get along, or at least come to some sort of agreement. It was what had to be done in such a situation. Not only that, Gokudera reflected, but he felt he owed it to the Tenth to try to get along with some of these guys, especially if they also respected Tsuna. "All right," he said firmly.

Kusakabe nodded prior to throwing the crouching man over his shoulder. "We'll take the van," he said, before barking orders to the other prefects.

Gokudera grabbed the other assassin by the collar and started dragging him along. This one was dazed, but conscious. "Uh, w-where are we going?"

Gokudera's grin was not pleasant. "Where else? You're going to grovel at the Juudaime's feet, where you belong!"

* * *

Tsuna returned from his errand to find Hyun Song, Bianchi and Reborn drinking tea, soda and coffee respectively. It was good to come back to such a scene, rather than one of butchery. "Nice to see you're getting along," he said, before heading for the ovens.

Eventually, Tsuna and Hyun did get through all those orders, while Reborn and Bianchi sat back and caught up with latest news, and in Reborn's case, poked fun at Tsuna's apron, which had _Kiss the Cook _on it because the usual ones were damaged beyond recognition from the morning fight. Bianchi later upheld her offer to clean the kitchen, and Tsuna had only just taken the blasted apron off, planning to ritually burn it, when there was a knock at the double doors that were the main entrance to the bakery. "This is the Disciplinary Committee! Open up!"

"What on earth?" Tsuna wondered as he went to open the doors, Reborn and Hyun looking on curiously. Without the distorted glass, he was soon gaping at two people he wasn't expecting to see. "Kusakabe? And Gokudera-san too?" he said in astonishment.

Right alongside the two was the white van that the DC sometimes used for transportation. Incidentally, it was the same old van two delinquent children had defaced and stolen years before, kept in mint condition by the DC for its sentimental value.

A prefect – it was Kita – pushed open the side door and seven vaguely familiar people came toppling out onto the floor. Tsuna's jaw dropped. "Oh, you guys _didn't_…"

"Juudaime!" Gokudera flippantly trode on one or two groaning bodies in his haste to enter the bakery, where he bowed his head to Tsuna. "First, I must apologise for my appalling failure at being your right-hand man! Not only was I careless, I didn't even realise that the Dioli Family had hired men to kill you not too long ago!"

"They did _what_?" Hyun and Reborn also weren't too happy realising that. Tsuna winced.

Gokudera grasped one of the men, whose hair was prematurely turning grey, and threw the man forward. "This guy's the de-facto leader," he said aloud, "because Musil – that's their actual leader – he's feeling a little under the weather."

The prefect Matsushita nudged at a man curled in the foetal position. Tsuna raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to know what we did to him, trust me," was Kusakabe's answer.

The de-facto leader bent his head. "M-my name is Sarka," he began tentatively, eyes flickering nervously at the surrounding faces, "and on behalf of the _Seven Bratu_, I'd like to apologise for our… misconduct."

_Click_. Reborn was suddenly standing next to Tsuna with his gun pointed straight between Sarka's eyes. "Not good enough," the hitman said darkly. "Are you dense? Not only have you tried to kill the Tenth Generation Boss of the Vongola, you attempted to murder _my_ student. Do you think I'll just let it slide? You're going to have to do better than that."

Tsuna was touched. Slightly traumatised, but touched.

Sarka turned white at the mention of the Vongola, and the fear radiating from the rest of his group only increased with Reborn's emergence and speech. "I-I'm sorry! We didn't know!" he wailed. Sarka and his chums instantly prostrated themselves onto the floor and started spouting all kinds of things as they frantically begged for forgiveness.

Tsuna sweated as he stared down at them. This was so many levels of awkward.

Reborn raised a hand and commanded their silence as everyone watched on with interest. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your brains out right here," he said stoically.

That was Tsuna's prompt to lightly cough. "As much as some people here would enjoy seeing that," he began, and the prefect Taka sheepishly lowered his camera, "I'm against the entire thing on principle." Sarka looked up at him like he was a God. "Plus, bloodstains really are hard to get out of these tiles," Tsuna couldn't help but add matter-of-factly.

Reborn's smile was shark-like as he lowered his gun. "We can't have that. It's bad for business." He glared down sharply at the _Seven Bratu_. "Do us all a favour and stay out of matters that don't concern you. I don't like dealing with lower-level mooks."

Hyun lifted Sarka to his feet. "I'll remember all of you. So don't _ever_ try something like this again." The Disciplinary Committee moved in to shove the men back into the van.

Meanwhile, Kusakabe took Tsuna to one side. "I know you probably didn't want all this to happen," he acknowledged, "but Hibari wanted to know their motives. They held nothing against you, but Orlando's still holding onto his grudge."

"You'd think this would get old by now." Tsuna stared up at the other boy. "Some of those assassins had red marks on their arms," he commented.

"Ah, yes. That would be from the leeches."

Tsuna peered around Kusakabe to the assassins. "I genuinely hope that the others don't have… oh, I don't know, the kanji for 'disruption' tattooed on their asses or anything."

Cue the thumbs up from Taka, who was near enough to hear that last sentence. "It was in the name of art."

Tsuna's face was blank. "Sometimes, the Disciplinary Committee really scares me."

Kusakabe grinned. "We're good at things like that. And we'll make sure that these guys are safely deported out of the country. We just wanted to make their first trip to Namimori _memorable_. Now," Kusakabe continued, "about Gokudera Hayato."

Tsuna's eyes moved to Gokudera, who was helping the other prefects in tying up the _Seven Bratu_. "What about him?"

"He's a brash, foul-tempered punk. And," Kusakabe chuckled slightly, "he takes his job very seriously. All of us," he nodded to the prefects, "can attest to his commitment. Give it some time and I'm sure he'll grow into the right-hand man job."

"Oh, he's not-" Tsuna was going to deny the whole thing, because it sounded like he purposefully wanted to obtain a right-hand man, but the older boy only winked before going to clamber into the white van's driver seat.

Ueno then strode up to Hyun Song. "Can I pick up our usual order now? The Chairman is fond of the sour cherry jam pastries."

Naturally, the Disciplinary Committee received special discounts from the Song bakery, though it was mainly because they were on good terms with Tsuna and brought Hyun a lot of business. Many places often didn't even bother making them fork over cash. It said a lot about Hibari's power, when even the local Yakuza gangs were paying him protection money.

Soon, with all delinquents and assassins onboard, the van drove off. Tsuna waved goodbye feebly, before swiftly closing the front doors. It was strangely fascinating how the DC had warmed up to Gokudera. Tsuna had half-expected their first meeting to be more…violent. At least now it was just him, Gokudera, Reborn and Hyun in the bakery. Maybe things could finally calm down.

"Well, that was different," Bianchi said as she pushed off from her lounging position against the kitchen entrance and strode to the front. "Hello Hayato."

Gokudera's jaw dropped as he staggered back. "A-aneki?" he choked out before crumpling to the floor.

"You two are related?" Hyun Song said in surprise.

"She's your _sister_?" Tsuna was also taken aback by this twist of fate.

What followed was Hyun Song having to revive Gokudera with a special blend of smelling salts, and Gokudera's subsequent promise to accompany Tsuna back home in case any more would-be-assassins (or worse, his half-sister) tried anything funny. And Hyun had later whispered to Tsuna, "I thought we had agreed that you told me the details of whenever hitmen came into the picture? 'People tried to kill me' is a bit vague, don't you think?"

Hyun meant well, but Tsuna always found it a little embarrassing having to talk about his life.

And he still wasn't off the hook.

"By the way Tsunayoshi," Reborn's voice was misleadingly nonchalant, "when we get home, we are going to have **words**."

Tsuna inwardly groaned. _Busted. _

_

* * *

_

Sawada Household

By nightfall Tsuna was sitting on the porch, thoughts idly swirling about his head. Next to him was Reborn, with Leon settled on his hand.

The hitman spoke first. "You've known about the mafia for quite some time. Vongola too, I'd expect."

Tsuna gently clenched his jaw. "I would be an _idiot_ if I didn't."

"You're not going to deny it?" Reborn said, eyes flashing. That was what Reborn had been expecting, and he'd been gearing himself up to destroy every one of the falsehoods that Tsuna would undoubtedly emit. Of course, Tsuna just had to disprove his assumption. His student was rather fond of doing that, oblivious to it or otherwise.

"What would be the point?" Tsuna said sullenly. "It's obvious that you don't plan on leaving anytime soon. And the both of us have to get a few things cleared up if we don't want to spend who knows how long eluding this dilemma."

"Being?" Reborn said shrewdly.

"For one, why you're here."

Reborn frowned. "I already told you, I'm here to train you for the title of Vongola Decimo."

"I'm aware of that. You're here to do your job," Tsuna said, rolling his eyes. "And that fact just makes me feel loads better. Out of curiosity, how much are they paying you for this?"

Reborn fiddled with his fedora. "I'm not being paid. I'm doing a favour for Vongola Nono."

"Even better. We're _both_ getting screwed over."

"I don't quite see it like that." Reborn placed Leon onto the wooden porch and gazed at his student gravely. "But maybe we _should _clarify some matters. The first one being, if I didn't think you were worth my time and effort, I wouldn't bother hanging around." Tsuna was listening carefully, so Reborn continued. "Vongola Nono is the Ninth Boss to the Vongola Family. Among other things, he's able to evaluate people with his own peculiar instinct. When you were opted for the succession, I naturally wanted to see what he saw in you."

"I also want to know what he saw in me," Tsuna muttered. "Because he should have known I wouldn't exactly be jumping for joy over my ascendance to future syndicate leader." Tsuna raised his head to glance sideways at Reborn. "Guess having the final option for the Vongola title actually standing for it hasn't gone down too well with the rest of the Family back in Italy," he said smoothly.

Reborn wasn't able to hide his shock by that last statement, and its implications. He spun to stare sharply at his student. "You-"

Tsuna's imperceptible smile was cynical. "Really, how stupid do you think I am? Don't think I don't know about the other Vongola candidates, whom you've _conveniently_ forgotten to mention."

The hitman resumed his usual composure, but was still thrown for the loop. Shit. He'd thought that Tsuna might have heard about the Vongola, but not to have an insight into the internal politics of the Family and his fellow, rival candidates.

"I understand," Tsuna said coolly as he continued while intently watching Reborn, "that Enrico was the most qualified until he was shot and killed in that feud. Next in line was Massimo, but he drowned. As for Federico, well, apparently all you found were the bones that he'd been reduced to. I don't even know much about the fourth candidate, except that he was a lot more popular a choice than I am. And while what happened to some of those candidates is a tragedy in itself, just knowing about their deaths, _do you know how that makes me feel_?"

It was here, sitting next to Tsuna in that house situated in Japanese suburbia, that Reborn stopped concentrating on the sole mission of the tuition of the Vongola Decimo, or even the task that would be unravelling the unidentified data surrounding him. Instead, Reborn reminded himself that this was still a fourteen year old boy.

In the following overwrought silence, Tsuna sighed. "That kind of record does little to reassure me of the Vongola's capabilities, let alone my own. You may be here to prepare me and make sure that I don't die, but I've been doing just fine on my own without you, or the Vongola."

A fourteen year old boy who, whatever the experiences, was more than a little angry. Not that Reborn could blame him. There are those who have greatness thrust upon them, and given his ancestry, Tsuna didn't have much of a choice.

Reborn repressed a sigh. "For someone whose life is supposedly devoid of the mafia influence, you really know a lot more than we give you credit for," he said quietly. "It changes some things, but others not so much. I'm not here to be your friend; I'm here to teach you. And I can't do my job properly if you aren't willing to learn."

Reborn didn't care whether Tsuna liked him or not. And while Tsuna might despair over the assassin's disposition and scheming, the fact that Reborn did not bother making himself personable or friendly towards his student just proved that he was more interested in doing his job right. Reborn was concerned about Tsuna's welfare in an illegal future, rather than being liked for it. And if anything, Tsuna could respect that, because it was a sort of approach to teaching that was not only sincere, but one of true dedication to the wellbeing of the student.

Even if Tsuna's wellbeing had a basis on not dying by the hands of mobsters and the like.

"If you're here to teach," Tsuna said steadily, "and you're absolutely serious about it, then I'll take this whole tutoring thing on board. I'm not prepared to accept the Decimo role, but I presume I can deal with this tutoring arrangement for the time being." The boy turned to the baby. "This is so messed up. I'm not even _Italian_. And you've got yourself a student who isn't exactly that keen about this sort of future. When you look at me, what do you even see?"

The brim of the fedora covered Reborn's face as he withdrew into his thoughts. _What I see? I see a mass of contradictions – something shared with family I'd imagine. I see someone with a natural intuition, a good heart, and sarcastic tongue. I see a person with storytelling eyes and too many undisclosed details surrounding him._ _I see a boy who shouldn't have to deal with this, but does anyway. _

The faintest of smiles crossed Reborn's face. It was genuine. "I see potential."

His answer drew a wry smile from Tsuna, as the boy leant his chin on one arm. "So," his student said, "I guess we're stuck with one another."

Reborn shrugged offhandedly. "Looks like it."

Tsuna clasped his hands before him. "At the very least, thank you for being honest. I recognise it probably goes against your very nature and profession, but I really do appreciate it. You're probably the first person who's done so when it comes to all this."

Sawada Iemitsu had a lot to answer for.

Reborn inclined his head. "It was the least I could do, considering the circumstances. If we are to deal with each other for an undecided amount of time, we'll have to make this work."

"We'll find a way," Tsuna murmured. "There's always a way."

There were too many untold stories and secrets on both sides. This undertaking would take effort from the both of them before Reborn and Tsuna were able to reach an operational partnership.

Reborn's gaze shifted back to his student. "Well then, seeing as we're trying to be truthful here," he said, the day's events coming to the forefront of his mind, "what exactly happened with the Dioli Family that made one of their own hate you so much?"

Tsuna's expression was eerily like one of Reborn's innocuous poker faces. "I kind of got the Dioli Boss' younger brother charged with pedophilia."

They stared at one another gravely, until identical smirks emerged on their faces and they began to laugh.

Their discussion was far from over, and this joint venture was far from perfected. But it was a start.

* * *

Anon. Reviews Corner

**RoxasIsReal13:** Thanks :D

**apocolyps:**Thanks, it's great to hear you like this fic and my portrayal of Hibari and Tsuna.

**green-road:**I had fun writing the flashback, I really did. The underworld isn't something you can walk away from, is it? I hope the conversation between Tsuna and Reborn was something you enjoyed, and some other Mafia Families might be showing up in later chapters. It'll be exciting to write, that's for sure. I'm a sap for humour and the WTF moments Tsuna's life is full of. He suffers a lot, but hopefully it'll be worth it in the end.

**Friglit:**Hahaha, one must wonder about how Tsuna keeps track. Even I'm not sure exactly how many jobs offers he might have gotten. And I'd imagine that some Families are more insistent than others. Ryohei's extreme-ness trumps all! Except perhaps Hibari and other exclusions. Always happy to bring the dry narrative and sardonic humour.

**jt:** Well, I hope you liked this instalment :)

**a name is meaningless:**While it pleases me to hear that you love this fic, it's a bit young for marriage XD Reborn's in for an awakening when the allies turn up (he's certainly going to be stunned), but I'm thinking about a few scenarios on that one. Hibari does indeed hold respect for Tsuna - they've known each other for a long time. Hibari has more brute strength though. And your spelling's fine :)

**Kaen307: **Hope you liked this update :D

**Hane no Zaia: **I'm glad you think it so. Hope you liked this, and thanks for the review.

**Review: **Ahaha, wow, I'm really glad I surpassed those expectations. I've taken your advice on board when it comes to 'sweated' – I could see your point. I've had a lot of good times playing around with the Mafia, as well as the back stories. The King of Hearts will one day make his reappearance, as well as some other insanity along with it. Thanks for the review, and I hoped you liked this chapter!

* * *

Lost in Translation

Gaijin: a rather derogatory term for foreigner  
Sempai: older classmate  
Kohai: younger classmate  
Oji-san: uncle

* * *

Author's Note:

When it came to the back-story I had two images in my mind. One was young Tsuna equipped with pepper spray. Another was the young Hibari and Kusakabe defacing property. Because things had to start somewhere, and kids are dangerous beings. Especially when they grow up to lead delinquent gangs and work with the mafia.

Hyun Song, my OC, Korean, and just one of those often-deadly chefs in this KHR world. We've got Bianchi and her poison cooking in the underworld; now let's build up on that, shall we? He's one of the uncles, and as you can see I've also made references to canon characters that we know and love that will be coming later into the story.

My view about Tsuna's mother is, given that she's been married to Iemitsu for years, she can't be as dense as we are lead to believe. Does anyone like the idea of Sawada Nana keeping an AK-47 under her bed in the case of an emergency? I've always wanted to see a Mafia Mother take on mobsters and win. Something for me to consider with Elisaveta and Yang Bao ;)

Kusakabe doesn't get much coverage, even as he puts up with Hibari, keeps the DC organised, and pulls off that hairstyle. It was strange thinking up torture techniques of the DC, so I'll say nothing on that. As for the Disciplinary Committee, I don't ever recall any names. Minor characters with little screen time, I've assigned a few names and fleshed them out a little. If you watch episode 73 and see those DC members, I now refer to the two flanking Kusakabe on either side as Hamasaki and Watanabe.

I pray that the talk between Reborn and Tsuna worked and wasn't too mushy or anything at the end. It took me a few revisions before I thought it was acceptable, and even then I'm not entirely sure I got what I wanted across. Even with their discussion, Reborn will still have to slowly work at finding out about his student. This means things gradually being revealed.

And to all those awaiting Mukuro's appearance, he's currently biding his time in prison. Don't be disheartened, he's probably already planning the prison break.

This chapter (and AN) is by far the longest I have written. Unfortunately, it's the only chapter you'll be getting for quite a while. Life has started to take its toll, and I just won't be able to keep the chapters coming at this point, not unless I want to have results that are Canon!Tsuna worthy. With my trials are just around the corner, along with the end-all-be-all finals, all the writing I'll be doing is most likely essays or mathematical equations. (You can _imagine _my ecstasy). Therefore, I'm going to be taking a break from writing fanfics. Maybe after another update (or not?) of my Shikago fic, I'll be on hiatus.

As always, thank you to all readers and responses, and unless otherwise, I will be back to writing TMWY sometime around early December this year.

~ SwordsMagician


	8. Mafia Studies

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

* * *

_DEFCON was one of the world's largest annual hacker conventions, taking place in Las Vegas, Nevada since its first gathering at the Sands Hotel & Casino in 1993. This year, DEFCON would take place at the Alexis Park Resort, and Ru Wen had been looking forward to it for months. _

_The day had started with Yang Bao setting guidelines earlier in the day, which were along the lines of, "Don't cause mischief, or do anything stupid – which means no alcohol, drugs, or property damage. Uphold the Family honour. And…have fun, will you?" _

_So Ru Wen had resisted the urge to bounce around in childish glee. He was going to spend his entire time at a convention for hackers and their ilk, possibly meeting Yu-Shiang Whole Fish in the process, who had said he would be there. This was going to be _sweet_. In fact, the only thing that could put a dampener on his plans was if his online friend of three years turned out to be a fifty-year old man or something equally creepy along those lines. _

_Unfortunately, there were plenty of factors that could ruin his day. Factors like the taxi driver levelling a gun to his forehead, and the car nearby exploding in a dazzling array of sparks and car parts. Oh, along with the body of a man falling onto their taxi and cracking the windshield. _Guess DEFCON's going to have to wait…

_Ru Wen had felt an unsettling cold inhabit his bones, but maybe that was because of the man with the gun. Meanwhile, the body that hit the windshield obviously wasn't dead when it got up and started yelling obscenities at the approaching gangsters wielding machine guns, before running off. As this was happening, Ru Wen's current minder, the "Straw Sandal" Yang Liaison Officer Nuan Yi took advantage of the last distraction to jab an acupuncture needle into the driver's neck. After securing the Yang Triad heir's safety, the idea was to have them leave the site before those gangsters at the other end of the street started to blow up more than just cars. _

_Unfortunately, a few untimely explosions had meant being separated from Nuan Yi, whose direct order was for Ru Wen to stay away from the battlefield and avoid wayward bullets. Ru Wen didn't want to inhibit the older man on the battlefield, and was forced to duck into a side-street to quickly weigh his options. It came as a surprise when he noticed a young boy roughly his age doing exactly the same thing. _

_The brown-haired kid looked up quickly at his approaching footsteps, before relaxing slightly. "Oh. You too, huh?" Ru Wen shrugged helplessly, wondering whether he should say anything in response. The other kid winced as another explosion rocked the place. "My uncle's back there, but he didn't want me hanging around for obvious reasons." _

_A European man wielding what was apparently a large power drill was taking apart a nearby vehicle for makeshift projectiles, while Nuan Yi tumbled around like an acrobat as he flung a barrage of needles at his attackers. "I think we should leave now," Ru Wen said carefully as a few opposing men started to get a little too close to their location. _

"_There's an idea." The other boy quickly grabbed Ru Wen's arm and started pulling him down the street. "RWdragon, this was not how I envisioned meeting you in person." _

_Ru Wen gaped. "Yu-Shiang Whole Fish?" _

"_In the flesh!" Tsuna neglected to mention his intuitive grasp on things. Besides, there weren't exactly huge numbers of people in his age group that he knew went to hacker cons. _

_They did manage to evade any snags as they got to the resort. Ru Wen, gasping heavily, rummaged around in his pockets and brought out an inhaler, taking two puffs for his asthma before croaking, "This was not what I was expecting at DEFCON."_

_Tsuna, right next to him, laughed under his breath. "After all this excitement, I can only imagine what will happen once we actually _enter_ the building." He extended a hand. "By the way, I didn't introduce myself properly. Tsunayoshi Sawada." _

_There was a tinge of an accent to the other's English. "Ru Wen Yang," he said, shaking the offered hand. "Would you be surprised if I told you my mother leads a Chinese Triad?" he asked meekly, feeling responsible for what had just happened. _

_"Eh, my father's in the Italian Mafia, I won't hold it against you." _

_After the ordeal, the online friendship was cemented. Things like shared hobbies and illegal activity can do that sometimes. But while Yu-Shiang Whole Fish – _Tsuna_ – had lived up to, and indeed surpassed, Ru Wen's expectations, Nuan Yi and Tsuna's pseudo-uncle Petrov weren't as amused by what had happened in the past thirty minutes. _

"_Ru Wen, maybe we'll have to call the whole thing off." _

"_Tsuna, I can't take you anywhere." _

"_If things took a turn for the worse, not only would I feel guilty, the Empress would have made a painful example of me." _

"_And Nana would kill me and cook my liver!" Petrov then turned to glare at Nuan Yi. "Hey, aren't you a Yang affiliate? Tsuna, it's bad enough you run into the mafia at every possible opportunity, don't go around befriending them!"_

_Nuan Yi rankled. "Oh, like you're completely legitimate yourself! I saw you tampering with their cars, you expect me to believe you're a model civilian?" _

"…_Well, I can't argue with that. Let's just forget the past hour ever happened." Petrov quickly turned back to Tsuna and Ru Wen. "I expect you'll both want to make your way inside to foray around the convention?" The two boys quickly nodded, looking as psyched as two nine year olds being let loose in what constituted as the Promised Land could be. "Tsuna, don't wander outside the decided perimeters, and keep your phone handy on you at all times. Don't do anything silly, you know the drill." Petrov raised an eyebrow at Nuan Yi. "Any rules for your charge?" _

_Nuan Yi ran a hand through his hair wearily. "We've already discussed them earlier. Ru Wen, your mother wants me to give my regards to some of our Russian contacts here, but if anything comes up you know how to reach me." _

_"I won't have to make small talk with them, will I?" Ru Wen asked anxiously. He'd never personally met those particular allies, but their heir was older than he was, and Ru Wen was at DEFCON to immerse himself in technology, not make nice with 'Russian Mafiya'. _

_Nuan Yi smiled. "Nah, you enjoy yourself with your friend." _

_Ru Wen and Tsuna shared high-fives, before running off to have a look around the place. "There's a Capture the Flag contest starting in an hour-" _

"_-Teams of hackers attack and defend computers and networks, we should sign up-"_

"_Look at 'em," Petrov muttered as they rushed off excitedly. "An hour ago they were running from car bombs and crazy gun-wielding maniacs." _

"_Kids. They can bounce back quickly. Oh, there's the Russian allies I was talking about." _

_Petrov raised a hand. "I don't have anything to do with this. I'm meeting an acquaintance of my own soon, but I'll drift around and keep an eye out on the kids-" he stopped. "Why is your Russian ally hugging my nephew? And why did the lady accompanying him just commit a grab and run?"_

"_Um…" the Chinese man looked uncomfortable. "I have no idea." He strode over quickly. "You must be the Volkov? I'm Nuan Yi, Yang Liaison Officer." _

_The young man nodded coolly. "Mikhail. My comrade's Anya Sokoll, Head of Communications." _

"_I'd like to point out that your Head of Communications just kidnapped our charges." _

"_Don't worry, she'll return them later," Mikhail said flippantly. "She's just excited to be able to instil the next generation with a healthy respect of hackerdom." _

_Funnily enough, Ru Wen wasn't too fazed by being whisked away by the Russian lady. "Tsuna, you never mentioned before that you were acquainted with the Volkov." _

"_Caught their attention after I did them a favour. Rather embarrassing, really. Hi Anya, how are you?" Tsuna said conversationally. _

"_Fine, thanks. Sorry about the abruptness kids," Anya said shortly, "but I _have_ to introduce you two to someone I know. Innocenti's giving a talk in ten minutes!" _

"_You'd be surprised how often this sort of thing happens," Tsuna said to Ru Wen glumly. _

_

* * *

_

**The Mafia Wants You!**  
By swordsmagician

Target 008: Mafia Studies

_Petrov's Residence _  
_Santa Barbara, California, USA_

Santa Barbara was often referred to as the American Riviera due to its geography and cool Mediterranean climate. Petrov liked the weather and the strong art presence of the area, along with the parklands, and as such he had a secure residence there whenever he needed to lay low.

While lying under the Aston Martin he was inspecting, Petrov stretched out a hand to reach for his ringing mobile phone and flipped it open. "Hello? Hey, Song, how's it going?"

The following reaction to the reply was instantaneous. Forgetting where he was, Petrov jerked up and naturally hit his head on the underside of his car. "Fuck!" he swore before wheeling out from underneath the vehicle and clutching his throbbing cranium.

Petrov then jumped to his feet. "What do you mean, Tsuna's _taking over a crime family_?"

* * *

"You know, Vongola Secondo once said that assassination gave him an uplifting, accomplished feeling." Reborn was lounging about, wearing a thin cotton yukata and indulging in the Japanese summer. It spoke volumes for Tsuna's adaptation to Reborn's presence of crazy when he didn't even bat an eyelid.

The words had been aimed at the sleeping Bovino, who'd worn himself out with three consecutive attacks on Reborn. Tsuna picked up Lambo and deposited him gently on the bed while wracking his brain on the rumours instilled in mafia myth. He brightened. "Hey, is this the same Vongola Secondo that was reputedly into orgies and immoral living?"

Reborn's chopsticks missed the bowl and hit the table as his head shot up. "Whatever you do," he said darkly, "_don't_ say that in front of the Vongola."

Tsuna was both shocked and amused. "You mean it's true?"

"No. Another mafia family started a smear campaign in response to Secondo laying siege on their island."

"Ah, the old slander campaign. Did it work?"

"Somewhat. He received many unusual propositions after that from assorted women. And men. Secondo was pissed, but he forgot about that after his attentions focused on a vendetta with another Family."

Tsuna snorted. "I can't believe I'm discussing scandalous activities of Secondo's private life with my tutor." He wondered how the Vongola would react if he did bring up such details to the face of the current Boss. If that should happen, he vowed to have a camera handy, if only to immortalise their scandalised faces.

Out of the blue, Bianchi poked her head around the door. "Hungry, anyone? Can I tempt you with my potato salad?" She held up a bowl of ambiguous-looking, bug-infested gloop that perfectly described why some people referred to food as 'grub'.

"Who let her in again?" Tsuna pointed out to nobody in particular.

The lethal chef sat down gracefully. "I'm here for love."

"She's here for work," Reborn said around a mouthful of food.

"Reborn needs me."

"I thought I'd ask Bianchi to cover some topics in your mafia education."

"I'm going out on a limb here and guessing that the relationship didn't work out due to bad communication skills." But Tsuna perked up. "Wait, what topics would Bianchi specialise in, besides the obvious?"

"I'll be assisting you in home economics and art. Which reminds me," Bianchi rose from her seat, "after battling your uncle I've decided some development of my abilities are in order. So what I'm now creating shall be Poison Cooking II. Twice the killing rate!" she said while flashing a peace sign.

Reborn briefly stopped slurping his noodles. Poison Cooking was already a Class A prohibited foodstuff. If its potency was increased, Poison Cooking II might be banned by international treaty on the grounds of inhumanity.

"We'll be conducting a home economics experiment, so I'll prepare the kitchen. You guys can come downstairs and join me whenever you wish or when I'm done."

While he was disturbingly fascinated by Bianchi trying to bring her cooking to new extremes, Tsuna managed to stutter out, "A-art?" after she'd left.

Reborn placed his chopsticks and empty bowl on the table. "Bianchi is also skilled in disguise, concealment, and art forgery. Her father made big money in the black market trade for artworks and antique goods."

"I see. This doesn't mean that Bianchi's going to live with us. Is she?"

"What, you think she's going to live with her brother when he can't even stomach the very sight of her?" The _duh_ factor was unspoken, but loud and clear.

"Guess not." Tsuna frowned. "Hang on, where does Gokudera live anyway?"

Reborn shrugged. "Don't know, don't care." He smiled slyly. "But it's the job of the Boss to look out for the wellbeing of his subordinates. I trust you'll figure it out."

Great. Now Tsuna felt guilty because he knew little to nothing about Gokudera. He didn't even know why he couldn't even stand the sight of Bianchi's face, though he had some inkling as to why.

Thinking about Bianchi brought him back to the problem of the Poison Scorpion taking over his kitchen. "We're all going to die of food poisoning," he whispered. "And it's going to be _your fault_."

"Some would consider it a small price to pay for seeing it first hand. By the way," Reborn's voice rose, "escaping via the window is not an option!"

Tsuna froze with one leg over the windowsill and an emergency overnight bag over his shoulder. "Goddamnit."

_

* * *

_

Jerome Pavlov's Residence  
Toronto, Canada

Canada was actually a strategic country in terms of Mafia activities, not only because it was a rich country but because of factors like the economy, legislation, and protection of a prosecuted person's rights. The likes of the 'Ndrangheta, hailing from the Calabria region in Italy, found Canada a comfortable and less-hostile place for operations.

Not that Jerome would know too much information on this. Unlike his friends Petrov and Hyun Song, Jerome had no relations with ties to the Mafia, aside from one pseudo-nephew in Japan. But between his profession and a former colleague from med school, he knew much more than the average bystander, whether it was rumours of illegal organ trafficking, drug dealings, or patent diseases being created by some unsavoury Family.

However, Jerome had been more interested in spending his day off doing something less depressing than thinking about appalling criminal activities. He opened his email while drinking his morning cup, frowning when an unread email with an unfamiliar address came up. It was possibly from Tsuna, who would exercise caution by using one-off emails to stop raising unnecessary scrutiny.

Jerome prayed this wasn't anything like last time, which involved some Italian mafia family and Somalian pirates. (What _was_ that Italian family called again anyway? Tosamo? Tomato?) And despite everything, he felt cautiously optimistic that things wouldn't be hell in a hand basket.

[**Inbox**: 1]

BEING GROOMED AS MAFIA HEIR. VONGOLA HAS SUPPLIED TUTOR FROM HELL. CURRENTLY UNDERGOING NEGOTIATIONS. HOPE YOU'RE WELL. PLEASE DELETE MESSAGE. TS.

Jerome promptly spat out his coffee.

* * *

While Bianchi clattered away in the kitchen, Reborn was sitting opposite Tsuna on the dining room table, almost obscured from vision due to the books, folders, old newspapers and files that took over most of the wooden surface. "Alright then," he said, "I've been compiling my study plans."

"…Should I be worried?" Tsuna asked, eyeing the tottering piles of books and such that surrounded Reborn.

"Let's put it this way," the chibi hitman said calmly. "You weren't raised like some of the other forthcoming mafia heirs of your generation, which means you're already seen to be at a disadvantage." Reborn consulted his clipboard. "So, there's a lot to cover. Vongola Family History, International Mafia History, Mafia Geography, Languages & Slang, Finance & Business, Basic Fitness, Basic Weaponry 101, Technology 101, Food Prep & Poison 101, Mafia Protocol & Convention, Forgery & Drama, Rhetoric…"

Tsuna's eyebrows were steadily rising with each inclusion in what Reborn had dubbed his 'Mafia Studies'. "I have to learn all that? Do all bosses go through this?" he said, stopping the ever-growing list.

Reborn looked at him like he was stupid. "Every Family does things differently, but I'm here to make you well-rounded. Some bosses won't even know half of what you'll eventually learn, but you won't be just any Mafia Boss, you'll be the _Vongola_ Mafia Boss."

They sort of stared at one another. "I'm assuming that's significant," Tsuna deadpanned.

Reborn smile was sharp from beneath his fedora. "Aristotle once said, 'The fate of empires depends on the education of youth.' I take that concept very seriously."

"Wasn't one of Aristotle's students Alexander the Great? Who later had Aristotle's grandnephew Callisthenes executed?" Tsuna said, grimacing as the thunk of knives on chopping boards reached his ears from Bianchi's domain.

Reborn shrugged. "We're in a different situation. For starters, Aristotle wasn't an Italian hitman."

"Additionally, I'm not a charismatic king from Macedonia pretending to be of divine origin."

"True." After Reborn's words there was a suspicious sound of what appeared to be a chainsaw in the kitchen. Tsuna could only wonder what Bianchi was doing in there. "Tsuna," Reborn said quietly as the background noises continued, "some day all humans must eventually die."

The Japanese teen was wary. "Which philosopher are you quoting this time?"

"Me."

Either way, it wasn't a very reassuring statement.

"Juudaime~!" An all-too-recognisable voice drifted from the direction of the entrance, causing them to look up. "I bring watermelon and an undisclosed amount of explosives!"

"And your subordinate arrives to pay his daily respects. Better greet him before something's destroyed." Reborn's words weren't exactly a gross exaggeration, and Tsuna got up to open the door.

Gokudera straightened and proffered his offering when Tsuna arrived. "Juudaime, want some watermelon? It's supposed to be really sweet!"

"Thanks, but you didn't have to," Tsuna said hastily. With Bianchi in the house, things could get messy. "I'm kind of in the middle of something at the moment."

Gokudera's eyes immediately sharpened. "You in some trouble? If you want, I can take care of it."

("_No worries, I'll take care of it!_")

Tsuna shook his head to dislodge that memory. "Not exactly. Reborn's going over study plans-"

"Excellent!" the bomber declared. "I'll help you in any way I can!"

"But-" Gokudera had already entered the house, and was making a beeline for the door. It was all Tsuna could do but rush after him and brace himself for the fireworks.

"Good day Reborn!" Gokudera greeted.

"Ciaossu."

"Is Juudaime's esteemed mother here?" he said, placing the watermelon next to an outdated newspaper with the headline, 'Accusations of Bribery: Mafia Queen Walks Free'.

"Hayato?" someone who definitely wasn't Nana called out. Gokudera instantly started to froth at the mouth as Bianchi materialised into the room.

Tsuna sighed. "That's going to get old."

Fifteen minutes later and Gokudera was sitting at the dining table, glowering. "I knew my sister would show up here and create trouble for the Juudaime."

Bianchi felt slighted. "I'm here to help Tsunayoshi out of the goodness of my heart!"

"Don't make me laugh," Gokudera growled while evading eye contact.

The Poison Scorpion rolled her eyes while muttering something along the lines of, "Little brothers."

Reborn got back to business and ignored the little spat. "Right, before I start teaching I want to get some idea as to how much you know." He looked up keenly. "Tsuna, here's how it works. If you lie or pretend you don't know something when you _do_, you'll just have to learn it all over again via the Reborn School of Pain and Eternal Suffering."

Tsuna wasn't looking too happy, but he reluctantly concurred. It would just waste time on both Reborn and his part, anyway.

"How well are you with the history of the Vongola Family?" Reborn started.

"Not a lot," Tsuna confessed, as Gokudera listened to his answers eagerly. "Just an outline of things, myth, allegory. Rumours about Vongola Quinto receiving his katar from a friend in the Indian Underworld, Vongola Ottavo having an unwanted harem. I can't always differentiate truth and the outright lies. Nevertheless they're quite entertaining."

"That's to be expected, so I'll keep it in mind. History and Geography?"

Tsuna's expression cleared. This was easier. "I could access all sorts of information from books and online about the history of the mafia. It might be a little different to the inside knowledge you have, but I'm fairly confident it's accurate. Geography's a lot more difficult, because feuds and the like can always cause borders and territories to change, but info on international mafia activities is always available if you know where to look."

Reborn's smile had grown bigger. "Astonishing. You're not completely useless."

Gokudera was beaming. Bianchi pulled over a chair and sat behind her brother. "So Tsuna knows more than some random guy off the street," she sighed, "which is all well and good. But that's all the boring details. What _I_ want to hear about are personal accounts. Like your experience in the Junior Chef competition, from one former contestant to another."

"Who told you about that?" Tsuna could only sweat in his seat as three sets of eyes zoomed in on him. "Hyun-jisan had better not have blabbed." They were still unrelenting, and he sighed. "Do I really have to talk about it?"

"Yes, you must," Reborn said instantly. "This is vital family bonding. The more embarrassing the anecdote, the better."

"Not if you don't want to," Gokudera said loyally, but Tsuna could tell he was dying to hear about it. After all, Gokudera didn't know too much about Tsuna either.

His eye twitched. "Alright, I'll tell you. But in exchange I get out of that home ec lesson."

"Deal," Bianchi said as she brought out the purple popcorn.

At least he'd live to see another day. "After my stint in the competition," Tsuna began the tale grudgingly, "it came to me that while cooks are to be respected in their own right, cooks that deal with the Underworld take the notch and crank it up to eleven. There's something eerie about a man that can slice an entire cow in less than four minutes, and is brave enough to throw out hardened criminals who become rowdy in his restaurant."

Reborn nodded. "I may not be a chef, but I can understand your sentiment. Hold a knife like this," he pulled out a knife while dragging the large piece of fruit Gokudera had brought towards him, "and you can cut a watermelon effectively. Hold a knife like _this_," the hitman changed his grip, "and you can cut the throats of four assassins without breaking a sweat."

He arranged the watermelon tastefully on a plate while Gokudera and Tsuna stared with wide eyes. Bianchi just sighed dreamily. "That's the kind of thing I look for in a man."

"Right," Tsuna mumbled. "Moving on. I was almost twelve when Hyun-jisan signed me up, in order to get some hands-on awareness into the underworld of cookery, partly because he was worried I wouldn't know what to expect if a mafia chef tried to kill me."

After his initial reservations, Reborn decided that he approved of Hyun Song.

"The event took place in Thailand, and there were about one hundred and nine contestants, all under the age of sixteen. We had to make three dishes – entrée, main course and dessert, all including orange as a key ingredient."

"And? How'd you do?" Bianchi asked, while Gokudera bit into a piece of watermelon.

"Well, what with Hyun-jisan being a baker and specialising as a pastry chef, my dessert was excellent, but my other dishes were pretty average. However, the problem wasn't the cooking, even with the rampant sabotage that was taking place at some of the tables." Tsuna huffed. "It was the fact that after the time limit was up and the judges started to taste the dishes to determine the winners, there were one hundred and nine contestants milling about doing nothing."

His listeners took no time in grasping the situation. "There would be a number of sharp and heavy cooking implements lying around," Reborn said expressionlessly.

"And unused ingredients left over," Bianchi added, thinking back to her own experience at the tournament when she'd won after the entire participating group found their dishes had become radioactive. It was such a shame that she'd been banned from every Underworld Junior Chef Tournament since.

Gokudera just winced. He knew about his sister's exclusion, at least when she'd been eligible to enter. He'd heard stories about the incident, and more than one chef had referred to that year as the Year of the Poison Scorpion.

Tsuna nodded. "Naturally, a food fight broke out. And what a food fight it was," he reminisced. "I saw one girl KO three other people with orange cream pies. A giant spaghetti monster squared off with a gigantic pizza monster somewhere in the back. Sentient soba noodles were seeking to eat the other competitors. A guy near my table tried to kill me with a meat cleaver. Pure, unbridled insanity, but no one died because then they'd miss the award ceremony, and nobody wanted that."

"Someone tried to kill you with a meat cleaver?" Gokudera sputtered.

"That would be Contestant No. 28." Tsuna scratched the back of neck, discomfited by the look Gokudera was giving him. "Both of us were almost disqualified after we started fork-fencing in the stands."

Reborn shook his head. "Makes me wish I'd had the time to see the proceedings of that year," he said wistfully. "I'd pay good money to watch adolescents try to decapitate each other with spoons."

"Yeah, you and the ten-thousand strong crowd that turned up on the day," Tsuna deadpanned.

Bianchi clapped her hands. "I do love those tournaments. They're thrilling to watch, and even more so to participate in. Did you win?"

"No. A lot of the others have been learning to cook as soon as they could hold a spatula in their hands. Others went to special culinary schools. There were even those apprenticed to chefs who'd been employed by mafia families. They had years of skill under their belts from feeding picky mobsters." Tsuna bit back a grin as he munched on the watermelon, which really was sweet and juicy. "You know, the guy that tried to kill me with the meat cleaver took third place."

"He obviously didn't deserve the win."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Tsuna said to Gokudera, still grinning. "The guy could cook. His main dish was chicken marinated in orange sauce with a side of orange-speckled Turkish bread and Caesar salad. All the judges agreed that it was delicious.

"Just stick to being a mob boss," Reborn advised. "You can hire someone to cook for you."

_

* * *

_

Petrov's Residence  
Santa Barbara, California, USA

The emergency meeting took place at Petrov's place. Armed with a laptop, a world map, and the pooled knowledge of their experiences, the three of them spread around the counter and put their heads together to address the situation.

But not before they exchanged some good old-fashioned complaining over much-needed alcohol.

"I should have known something like this would happen," the Korean cook lamented. "This is terrible."

"Are you kidding? This is an outrage!" Petrov said loudly. "No nephew of mine will be leading a criminal syndicate! At least, not until he graduates from high school!"

"Come on you two. Let's think about this carefully. What kind of precedents are we talking about when it comes to leading mafia families?" Jerome tried to act rationally.

Petrov just snorted in the face of Jerome's rationality and took another swig of his Chianti. "It's the mafia. Most of the time they do whatever they fucking want."

"A lot of mafia kids grow up knowing about the business and being trained for it," Hyun said calmly. "There's an assassin school of good reputation in Hungary, and if I'm not mistaken, Mafalda Ladies College is a popular choice among the Italian families. But there's still plenty of mafia progeny who attend normal schools and lead law-abiding lives. I didn't follow my grandfather's footsteps to become an assassin, although Grandfather Hwan was always a bit depressed by the idea that I wanted to bake cakes for a living."

"But Tsuna doesn't fall into either category," Jerome pointed out. "The Vongola didn't seem to plan arrangements pertaining to his future, and now they're just going to put him up to the Decimo title? Why? Where's the sense in that?"

"Well, let's see," Petrov said bitingly. "Vongola Nono's _old_."

"…Okay. Anything else?"

"What else do you need, he's old!" Petrov moaned. "He's in his sixties, at the very least. He's going to have to retire sometime, providing he doesn't bite the dust first."

"It's actually commendable he's alive," Hyun said, "once you consider the life expectancy rates in his career, he must be good."

Jerome massaged his temples. Seriously, he was a doctor, not a criminologist. "Didn't you mention before that the Ninth Boss had four sons? Why aren't _they_-" he stopped and reflected the stupidity of this. "Oh," he said weakly. "Sorry, that was a silly question. Tsuna wouldn't even be considered if there were other people qualified for the job."

"Three sons dead, one AWOL," Hyun Song finished. "Say what you like about him, Vongola Nono hasn't had the best of luck with his successors. Although he might be on to something when Tsuna became more than just a footnote on the list."

"Lucky him," Petrov muttered derisively. He'd been in a foul mood ever since the phone call from Hyun he'd first received, not that they could blame him. Jerome was going to have to replace his old computer after reacting to the very blunt email Tsuna had sent.

"So," Jerome placed his empty glass on the counter, "this Reborn, he really is tutoring Tsuna?"

"That's right," Hyun said. "He's one of the best assassins in the industry."

"And the Sun Arcobaleno to boot," Petrov said, waving a finger in the air. "You don't get to be a part of that crowd without some serious credentials. I've heard that Reborn's got achievements for all sorts of things, from university-level mathematics to a diploma in _theatre_."

Jerome pushed up his glasses. "He is quite formidable then."

"I was under the impression that Reborn was dealing with the Cavallone," Hyun said, turning to Petrov. "Don't they have a boy taking over the family business?"

The Bulgarian was in deep thought. "That may be the case, but Cavallone's allied to Vongola, so Reborn was doing them a favour. And as the keystone in their alliance, the Vongola have priority. Face it; he isn't going to leave Japan anytime soon."

"Very well." Jerome's eyes narrowed. "What are we going to do about this?"

"I'd like to put forward that I'm going to need prior notice if I have to get my hands on anything really illegal," Petrov announced. "Just a thought."

The doctor rolled his eyes, but they sat in silence until Hyun spoke up. "Did I mention Gokudera? Tsuna's self-proclaimed right hand man. Nice boy, very enthusiastic," Hyun said blithely as his comrades proceeded to choke on their wine, "Has an uncanny fondness for explosive devices."

"…You mean to tell me…that Tsuna's already got mafia _MINIONS_?" Petrov roared.

"You're secretly proud, admit it," Jerome murmured into his glass after his recovery.

"Yes, but that's beside the point!"

Hyun Song was noticeably holding back his laughter now. "It's not like you can just turn up on the Sawada doorstep with a declaration of war. How's Tsuna supposed to explain that to Reborn when he's trying to be discreet?"

Petrov was offended. "I can be discreet."

Jerome was not completely convinced. "Last time you said that you managed to rack up 1.2 million dollars worth of property damage after destroying three warehouses full of marijuana owned by a drug baron trying to kill you."

"_Fine_. I guess I could put plans of retribution on hold and cash in a few favours instead. Keep an ear to the ground, observe mafia undercurrents."

Hyun was staying positive. "Maybe it's not as bad as we think it is? I mean, Reborn's looking out for Tsunayoshi. I'd prefer having the Sun Arcobaleno on my side rather than against me. With Reborn around, Tsunayoshi might be able to stay out of trouble."

They looked at him blankly. "Please, this is _Tsuna_ we're talking about. He can't even walk into a bookstore without running into criminals."

"Right." Hyun slumped dejectedly. "Remind me why Tsuna's such a mafia magnet again?"

They all pondered this rhetorical question like ancient philosophers speculating about the mysteries of life, or in their case, why nephews are continuously drawn into mob schemes.

* * *

"Thanks for coming over today, Gokudera-san." They were in his room while Reborn chilled in an inflatable pool out in the yard and Bianchi sunbathed.

Gokudera grinned. "No problem! In fact, I'm honoured to hear about your deeds before we met." Tsuna's smile wavered. The Junior Chef tournament was one thing. He was just glad they didn't ask to hear about when he'd had to infiltrate Charmaine Girls Academy. He'd spent a good part of a month attempting to bleach that from his brain facilities.

"Oh!" Tsuna recalled something he had wanted to ask. "Gokudera, I hope I'm not being obtrusive, but I was wondering about your reactions to Bianchi. Is it because…?"

Gokudera's face fell. "Yes, it is. Here's the thing," he sighed. "I lived with my sister until I was eight, and we used to have a lot of luxurious parties at our castle. When I was six, I was supposed to perform on the piano at the gathering, so my sister baked me cookies."

Tsuna had raised an eyebrow at hearing that Gokudera used to live in a _castle_. But if his father had been a mob boss, who'd made a fortune off the black market, then it wasn't that much of a stretch of the imagination.

"It was only later that we would realise my sister possessed the skill to make all of her cooking poisonous. From the ensuing dizziness and severe nausea of her food, my piano performance was bizarre, yet it received high accolades from the guests. Possibly they were being polite, but most of them thought it was an abstract piece that purposefully defied traditional convention. In any case, my father was in a good mood, and the performances would continue. And Bianchi…," he shivered, "…would make more cookies."

"That's just tragic."

Gokudera nodded emphatically. "Every time I see my sister's face, my body can't take it. I'm sorry you had to see such an appalling display!" he swiftly apologised. "It's a terrible weakness! You're probably disgusted at such a shortcoming."

"Are you kidding me? That's a terrible way to be traumatised for life."

Gokudera blinked. "You don't find it annoying?"

"It's not like it's your fault. Besides, I've had troubles with cooking," Tsuna said. "My first shots at cooking may not have been on par with Bianchi's cuisine, but it was _bad_."

"How bad?" Gokudera just had to ask. "As in, 'needs more salt' bad?"

"As in 'not fit for human consumption' bad. Even the chihuahua down the street wouldn't touch my food. I was crushed."

Gokudera's mouth twitched into a smile. "It's not Bianchi's cooking. I would have eaten it."

"Trust me, I wouldn't have asked that of you," Tsuna chuckled quietly. "It wasn't easy, but I'm now proud to say that my cooking's edible. And considering his father's a sushi chef, Yamamoto's food shouldn't hold any danger of poison unless you want to eat fugu."

The Italian was not wholly relieved. "Still, with Bianchi around, I'm useless! I couldn't even glance her way today without feeling the urge to hurl. But she's supposed to help you, so I don't want to get rid of her if she'll be able to teach you something useful."

Tsuna rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Suppose we just get rid of her temporarily?" he said, inwardly cringing at how cliché that sounded aloud.

But Gokudera must have liked that idea. "We can exploit my sister's weaknesses!" he decided. "She was obsessed with an ex-boyfriend that passed away; I'm sure that she'd chase him to the ends of the earth if he appeared!"

Now, where had Tsuna heard that last line before? While the idea had merit, it might be a little cruel if this man was dead and she hadn't gotten over him. Also, Tsuna was getting the impression that he'd have to hire an impersonator. "What did he look like, and what did he die of?"

"I have a picture! Oh." Gokudera visibly deflated. "I never met the guy, but I heard that he died of food poisoning. Guess she'd only chase after him if she wanted to finish him off."

Their plotting was interrupted by a loud bang downstairs. "I'm going to be away for a while!" Bianchi called. "Reborn wants to eat good eel on the hottest day of the summer, so I'm going to Hamana Lake! Tsuna, when I get back there's going to be a quiz on spices and their properties, so you'd better not slack off while I'm gone!" Both Tsuna and Gokudera peered out of the bedroom window to see her whiz off into the distance on her bicycle. Meanwhile, Reborn was still chilling in his swimsuit.

"You think he heard us?" Tsuna asked suspiciously.

"Reborn is the best of the best. I wouldn't put it past him to have supersonic hearing," Gokudera said wisely. He had not been aware that one of Reborn's skills was actually being able to communicate with bugs.

The hitman put his arms behind his head and lay back lazily. It was always remarkable what people would talk about once they thought they were out of earshot. After all, the two boys hadn't noticed the large Hercules beetle relaying him information.

When Tsuna thought the hitman might be bugging the place, he hadn't meant _literally_.

Reborn adjusted his sunglasses. "It's good to be me."

* * *

"Alright, it's settled! For emergencies, I'll get my hands on no less than fifty kilos of gelignite, and nothing you say will deter me from my decision!"

"Song, I think Petrov's drank too much."

"Mm."

* * *

Like on the first day that they'd met, it was now just Reborn and Tsuna once Gokudera had left, sitting side by side at the table. Only this time, they were reading an Italian newspaper and criminology book, respectively.

"…And it turns out Gokudera's renting an apartment. That's not going to be cheap." Tsuna was currently rifling through one of the texts Reborn had wanted him to read to supplement his mafia studies, '_L'Uomo delinquente_.' "Maybe I should ask Hibari about property prices around here."

Reborn sipped his espresso thoughtfully. "The Vongola boss allocates a stipend to Gokudera that covers his expenses."

"You could have told me that earlier!"

Reborn ignored that last line. He could be just as difficult as Tsuna. "Gokudera's mathematical skills shall have to come into play when he arranges his budget to pay for rent, groceries, clothes, school supplies, dynamite and even cigarettes, which, mind you, are becoming quite expensive…" he trailed off.

"Yes, I know. Yamamoto and I are going to visit sometime in the future. Remind me to get a nice laptop for Gokudera's housewarming present."

It was nice that Tsuna could take a hint. Reborn believed that Gokudera needed some stability and reliance in his life and it was Tsuna's responsibility as a friend and boss to be aware of the wellbeing of his right hand man.

Just as Gokudera would be to Tsuna, because it was pretty obvious that Tsuna was getting into plenty of trouble on his own and needed people to look out for him, lest he do something stupid while Reborn wasn't around to smack sense into him.

Reborn stared at his watch. It was already some time past three. "Nana's gone with Lambo to enrol him into Namimori Kindergarten. Looks like he'll become a regular fixture here."

"Possibly. I've got a representative from the Bovino family who'll be stopping over in the near future," Tsuna said distractedly. "Something about a misunderstanding over the words of their boss and a literal interpretation on Lambo's part. His aunt was upset, and quite apologetic about the fuss Lambo may have done. Surprisingly, she appeared a lot saner than the rest of her Famiglia."

Reborn frowned. "You were able to contact the Bovino's via email, and you still sit there and deny any mafia contacts?"

Tsuna looked up innocently. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Reborn shook his head at his student's continual rebuffs. "At least you're familiar with the Bovino. I'll have to go over some of the Vongola history and our alliances for your benefit. And there's another thing that has come to my attention." Reborn pinned his student with a stare of utmost seriousness. "I had believed it to be inconsequential, but perhaps it should be addressed now rather than later."

Tsuna was fast becoming uneasy.

"Later on, you'll often be meeting such allies, or other variously important people. You'll even be a representation of the Vongola. And while you're in training and relatively obscure now, I should begin preparing early." Reborn inattentively stroked Leon. "I was in your wardrobe the other day-"

Tsuna's mouth dropped. "What do you mean, _in my wardrobe_-"

"-and you're clothes just aren't up to par. I'm going to have to take you shopping some time. Maybe hire a tailor to whip up some snazzy suits. Hoodies and jeans just aren't going to cut it at formal occasions."

"A mafia boss might have the need of good dress sense, but I don't see the need for you to take me shopping," Tsuna protested, "Especially if it's for… pimp mafia suits. I'd feel like a complete fraud wearing one and I believe the money's better spent elsewhere."

Reborn shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, already mentally arranging to place a few orders with a tailor that he knew.

Oblivious to Reborn's scheming, Tsuna was just thankful of the fact that he'd had the foresight to stash away some incriminating stuff before Reborn had arrived. The phone call from the Volkov giving him the heads up of the situation had helped.

But the fact that Anya had told him the news was a bit odd. As Head of Communications and a colleague of sorts when it came to tech work, the fact that she'd called was not suspicious, but it was when Mikhail hadn't featured. He was probably busy running his Family, but Tsuna wasn't looking forward to the ideas of the Russian turning up on his doorstep one day only to meet Reborn. And when the Volkov were at the scene, there was a good chance that the Acerbi would show.

And maybe some more people with a vested interest in this affair. Tsuna wrenched himself from that headache-inducing thought to focus on the chibi-hitman. "So, why were you in my wardrobe exactly?" he had to ask.

Reborn merely shoved Tsuna's head to the open book lying on the table. "Just shut up and read."

At least Tsuna wouldn't be the only one to suffer. Reborn would have his own fair share of headaches throughout the approaching ordeals. It seemed…fair.

_

* * *

_

Gokudera's Apartment  
Namimori, Japan

Gokudera expected that he'd undergo all sorts of trials while in Namimori. Of course, he'd endured quite a few trials, but this one would be his toughest yet, and would span years if not his entire life. Being the second of the Vongola Decimo wasn't the sort of thing to be taken lightly. Even if Vongola Nono had seen _something_ in Gokudera, others had been less convinced of his capabilities. Tsuna wasn't the only one under evaluation, as it were.

The thought made Gokudera frown. At least in Japan, he wouldn't have to deal with the continual assessments made by the rest of the Vongola in Italy. Now that he was aligned with Tsuna, he should be more concerned of the closer scrutiny of the Ninth Generation. In fact, one Coyote Nougat had made no pretence of the fact that he harboured doubts. Gokudera wouldn't put it past that crowd to test his resolve and capabilities, and the very idea irked him.

The bomber unfurled a large roll of paper on his dining table, revealing a map of Namimori and the surrounding regions. Gokudera observed it carefully, noting all the marks on its surface. The baseball idiot's home was actually _closer_ to his apartment, lying on the most direct path to the Juudaime's place. A number of warehouses were marked in red, along with other choice locations. The office of the Momokyokai Yakuza was here, the Song Bakery here, Namimori Middle School there…

He had meant to ask the Juudaime some questions, but after today he'd decided that they could wait. There were other people he could go to for information, and Kusakabe had been only too helpful. Then again, Kusakabe had realised things from here on would only get more complicated, and while Gokudera couldn't share classified mafia information with the prefect, he was perfectly able to give the older boy an idea of the scope of things, so the DC could act accordingly if they so wished.

He set the map aside to examine a sheet of paper with phone numbers of the DC members, before his eyes fell onto a large key numbered 312. Kusakabe had said it opened one of the units in a secure storage facility the DC made use of, which Gokudera was free to use if he wanted to safely stockpile his explosives and things. He could only imagine what the Disciplinary Committee were stashing in _their_ respective lockers.

_So, my main objective for the time being is to acclimatize myself, foster connections and work on my techniques while supporting the Boss. Reborn's officially started to cover the theory behind the mafia, and chances are good that Reborn's reporting everything we do, and how we're going. Add to that any outside parties or assassins on another Family's payroll, and there's a chance we'll be dealing with a __**lot**__ of people in the coming months. And the Juudaime has yet to meet the Vongola's allies, who'll be just as interested as the Vongola on how capable a Boss he'll turn out to be…_

Gokudera rested his chin on his arm. He'd been told before that he was brash and reckless, and he couldn't exactly deny that. Still, there was nothing wrong with a proactive approach to things, and Gokudera was not the sort of person to sit back and hope for the best. No, better to take direct action and actually _do_ something.

What had Yamamoto called this, a game? "Heh, sure it's a game," Gokudera said aloud. "Where the returns are high and the stakes are higher." He pushed up his reading glasses while looking back to the map, absently reaching for a pen to write down notes. "And there's no way I'm going to let myself be unprepared for what the Vongola, or anyone else, throws at me or the Juudaime."

* * *

Anon. Reviews Corner

**Sezony:** Thank you, what a compliment! I've really enjoyed writing this, and now I'm back I hope to bring more chapters. And I had Tsuna explain that chef competition for good mafia family bonding times :D I hope to bring more shocked!Reborn sometime soon. Thanks again for the reviews!

**Kieran Phoenix:** Just discovered? Well, welcome to my little story here! I'm glad that I could make you laugh; at times it's very difficult to write something humorous. I hope now to put the hiatus behind me, so I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll be trying to write more. Thanks for reviewing!

**phil:** Thanks, I try to keep things up to standards. Tsuna's got more than a few crazy anecdotes and allies under wraps, never fear – they'll slowly appear on the scene or pop up when least expected. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for the review!

**Fanfiction Lover (Jay):** You spoil me! I still have a lot to learn and develop, but I'm enjoying myself very much when I'm writing, so I adore the fact that you adore it. I'll continue to aim for a natural writing style, if such a thing can be achieved (sometimes I wince when reading over things, they seem forced to me.) I'll readily admit that I'm a sucker for character development, so we'll see how I go when things continue. Thank you for the review and the good luck (my exams are mercifully over) and I hope you'll continue to enjoy this.

**KoreanYaoiFangirl:** Thanks! Writing Tsuna is hilarious – regardless of whether he's Dame-Tsuna or not, he tends to get into all sorts of trouble, now and before. It's eye-opening for me. I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter, and thanks for the review!

**green-road:** Tsuna and Reborn – welcome to the dream team. Well, sort of! Hilarity and chaos is how things operate around here, so Tsuna will continue to deal with all sorts of trouble, and Hibari + the DC will find ways to get in on the action. Hope you liked the latest chapter, and until next update! Thanks for reviewing :D

**Kaen307:** Oh, you're too kind! I don't think anyone's offered to write me poetry. So long as you're enjoying yourself, it's all good :) Ah, Dino, only mentions at the moment, but his day will come. Due to demand, Ru Wen and Tsuna's first meeting in person was the flashback of the chapter, though they've known each other for longer - I'll have some more on their tomfoolery in future. Thanks for your lovely review ;)

**Estrella85:** Well, I'm glad you gave this fic a try! I'm trying to keep things in perspective and stay away from super Mary Sue territory, so I'll see how this pans out. It's nice to hear that my writing flows and my OCs are okay; I also must admit that using the original plot as a sort of guideline allows me leeway for some of my own ideas and twists while following canon. There will probably be deviations as I bring some of side-plots in and whatnot. In any case, I hope you will continue to enjoy, and thank you for reviewing :)

**Lusalma:** Thank you! It's been really interesting playing around with the script and canon, and writing this Tsuna is quite entertaining. And yes, this is being continued, as you can see!

**MXM:** Tsuna and Hibari are cute in their own way, though those on the wrong end of Hibari's tonfas wouldn't readily agree. I'm glad I could make you laugh, thanks for the review!

**XienRue:** Thanks, hope you enjoyed the latest chapter!

**ImploringIdeal: **Thanks! Reborn's now going to break out the study plans, 'cause he's got work to do :D

* * *

Author's Note: …I bring chapter?

Well, guess that means I'm back! Still getting into the groove of things, but I've left you guys hanging for four months, so here's coverage on Poison Cooking debacles, the Uncles, and Tsuna starting his mafia studies. Apologies if the back-story seems rushed or anything, it took quite a few drafts before I tentatively went with this version. Iemitsu wasn't aware of Tsuna being in Las Vegas at the age of nine. Nana, on the other hand, is reminded of how much Tsuna takes after his parents in the tricky scrapes department.

I've also sadly realised that I've made an error Tsuna's age by my own confusion during research. While Tsuna's listed as fourteen, he celebrates his birthday in October, and being in middle school he's currently thirteen instead, so I've rectified that. Sorry folks!

Gelignite (also called blasting gelatin, and even jelly) was invented by Alfred Nobel, who'd invented dynamite earlier on. However, gelignite is safer to handle without protection (provided it's not near anything able to detonate it). Not only is it cheaper, it burns slowly and can be stored safely, which means it's used in mining and such. Gokudera probably knows all about it. Speaking of Gokudera, writing him is the strangest thing. He's had that proper mafia upbringing that Tsuna missed out on, and combined with his genius, I've got this Gokudera actively trying to live up to that right-hand man role in different ways. He should know what such a job entails, and damn if I don't get a kick out of having him forge connections with those DC delinquents, or doing loads of stuff off-screen like Tsuna does.

I hope I'll be able to have details on how things operate in Namimori, but likewise, I haven't forgotten about the characters that haven't featured recently. Some of you have been asking for the likes of Hana, Yamamoto, Ryohei, Mukuro, Verde, even Mikhail and Dante – they'll all have their time, I've just been organising things to see where they'll best be able to appear. Maybe, one day, we'll even find out if Hibari actually has parents.

Here's to hoping for prospective updates for 2011. Thanks for taking the time to read, review and/or put this on alert. An early Merry Christmas to you all :D


	9. On The Wrong Foot

Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi was unassuming. Resourceful. Surprisingly adaptive. A little inept when it came to dealing with romantic affections or unwanted attention. And his hyper-intuition hasn't been wrong yet. Regardless, he didn't need that indication of doom to know that Reborn was the harbinger of utter chaos.

Warning: Liberties taken with the storyline, Out-of-Character Tsuna, Reborn's teaching methods, Mukuro's perverted tendencies, EXTREME-ness, swearing, violence, organised crime and Hibari. Cause his sheer presence in any fic deserves a mention.

I KNOW IT'S A VERY LONG TIME COMING. HERE, HAVE A CHAPTER WITH MY APOLOGIES.

* * *

_Nana had a friend who adored antiques, so when said friend's birthday was around the corner, Nana caught a train to Jinbocho for some serious shopping. A simple enough premise. _

_Tsuna had firmly attached himself to his mother's side for most of the journey, until his six year old attention span was lured away by the scores of used bookstores in the area. Tsuna's efforts to resist temptation were admirable, but once the purchases were made and the gifts were wrapped, he was pulling Nana towards the largest bookshop he could find. _

_Both of them had been browsing happily, before Tsuna tugged at his mother's sleeve. "I'm going to have a look in the back," he whispered. _

"_As long as you don't leave the store," Nana said while perusing through an Agatha Christie novel._

_So Tsuna was navigating his way through the huge store, keeping an eye out for any good titles on the bookshelves while running his hands along their spines. Reading was something he had taken to almost immediately, so you could imagine his horror with the prescribed texts in school, particularly the simple ones that involved nonsensical stories about children and animals. While suitable for the average six year old, they didn't offer Tsuna much in the way of development.*_

_Flicking through a copy of Alice in Wonderland by the light of a back window, Tsuna had an irrational desire to look up. On reflex, he did so, and immediately dropped the book in his haste to back off and flatten himself against the wall. Moments later, a silver sedan hit the window and accompanying store head on, causing books and plaster to fly. _

_The previous quiet of the bookstore gave way to chaos. There were faint screams from the other customers, who – including his mother – were clustered towards the front of the store where most of the bargains were. The car's impact had toppled over a few bookshelves like massive dominoes, and while people panicked, the general layout of the store meant they were fine, merely shocked. _

_Tsuna realised with a small chill that he had been effectively cut off from everyone else. It was not a pleasant feeling. _

_After a few minutes, he couldn't even hear anything from the front of the store. Were they evacuating the premises? Where was his mother? Was she okay? Did they make her get outside in case anything was in danger of collapsing? She better not be trying to get to him here – after all, he was small and stood a better chance of getting through any small spaces. _

_Covered in bits of powdery white plaster and his heart racing with adrenaline, Tsuna removed his hands from their position cradling his head, and tentatively peeked around the bookshelf. The car was a little way ahead of him, where one of the bookshelves had collapsed on top of it. The windscreen was broken, and as far as he could tell there was no movement from inside. He hoped no one had died. Tsuna's attention then drifted to his left as a flash of yellow caught his eye. _

_It was a small bird, hindered by a large piece of plaster and other bits of detritus. It struggled vainly from its place on the floor, making feeble peeping noises. Tsuna slowly crept forward from his hiding place. "It's okay," he said softly, "you'll be fine." He removed the piece and inexpertly, but gently, held the bird in his cupped hands. "How did you get here?" he wondered. _

_Still crouching on the floor, he didn't notice anything amiss, but the small bird gave a warning chirp. Tsuna frowned, and then was abruptly shoved against a bookshelf, books digging into his back. The yellow bird flopped onto the floor, where it curled up and cheeped continuously. _

_Tsuna clenched his eyes shut, not daring to look at his assailant. _

"_Hah? S'just a kid," a gravelly voice said in accented English. The hand at his neck flexed experimentally. "Brat, you're in the wrong place at the wrong time." _

_There was a small scraping sound from where the car lay abandoned. The man turn his head at the noise, still keeping a firm hold on Tsuna, who sneaked a glance. His assailant was unshaven and unkempt, with dusty black clothes. "Hey Birds, you dead yet?" the man asked._

_A small man eventually emerged from the wreckage. The left lens of his glasses was cracked, and he was bald under his battered bucket hat. "Not today, Scuttler." _

"_Shame," Scuttler said. "I was hoping to ward off enforcers with your dead corpse." _

"_Hmph!" The man called Birds shook his coat. "Like I have any intention of dying!"_

"_You've been doing quite well, not being in prison an' all." _

"_The Bloody Twins are far more resilient than I. Do you honestly expect me to follow them into jail?" _

"_Birds," Scuttler said, "you are a gutless, spineless jellyfish. If the Bloody Twins weren't amenable subordinates you'd have been killed ages ago." _

"_But I am alive and currently a free man. In any case, today's business will be over soon," Birds continued, "and I know when it's time to lay low. Vendicare would be bad for my disposition."_

"_Well then, what am I s'pose to do with this?" Scuttler motioned to Tsuna, who'd been playing dumb while still in his grasp._

"_I'd like to enjoy his suffering, but I'm not in the mood." Birds turned his back on them in disinterest. "He's not important anyway. Kill him." _

"_Maybe I will," Scuttler said. Tsuna's fingers itched in response. Of all days to forget the pepper spray, he thought, before bringing up his hand and jabbing Scuttler in the eye with a thumb._

_The man yelped, but Tsuna had already flung himself out of the way, wriggling through the maze of books and wooden structures eagerly in order to get away from the two men. _

"_Creep away all you want, you little cockroach!" Scuttler cried. _

_Tsuna's eyes flickered around him as he kept moving, but he wished he'd kept them facing the front. There was a shadow he could see between the thin gaps of the broken bookshelves, and out of the corner of his eye Tsuna saw a clambering figure on the ceiling. He could now see why the man was called Scuttler. It was like looking at a spider – all unusual angles and elongated limbs, scurrying about on walls and objects, a long arm reaching out. _

_Tsuna nearly jumped as a hand clamped down on his right foot. He tried to shake it off, but the nails burrowed themselves into his ankle, gripping tightly and trying to pull him back. Tsuna's eyes looked into Scuttler's own – one of which was red and puffy – and he baulked as the man smiled._

_What happened next was over in seconds. There was a clinking sound, and then Scuttler's look of triumph morphed into one of fear. He screamed, and the vice-like grip on Tsuna's foot disappeared. Somewhere nearby, Birds screeched and went quiet. The clinking sound grew louder._

_Tsuna stayed in his sheltered spot nervously, too edgy to move. There was a small crack in the bookshelf, and Tsuna could see flashes of dark clothing. He tried to make himself as small as possible. There was someone else here, besides him and the two criminals. It wouldn't do well to bring himself to attention._

_Wait, there were six people, not including himself. How did he know that?_

_The shifting presence stopped. There was another jangle of chains, the scraping sound of cloth on wood, and the air seemed to grow colder as Tsuna found himself looking up at a bandaged face._

* * *

**The Mafia Wants You!  
**By swordsmagician

Target 009: On The Wrong Foot

_The Arata Hotel,  
__Namimori, Japan_

"…Yes. Yes, it's a possibility. Further study is needed…maybe orchestrating something to see his reaction?" The remainder of Reborn's espresso was lukewarm when he brought it to his lips. He clutched the cup thoughtfully. "_Molto __bene_," he said into the phone. "I will anticipate your arrival. Please pass along my regards."

Sunlight flittered through the window pane of the most prestigious (and somehow, _coincidentally_ Vongola-owned) hotel that Namimori had to offer. Reborn placed his empty cup on the table and got to his feet, fedora in hand. His surroundings were luxurious, a testament to the skill of the architect.

Reborn turned to the hotel's manager – a retired mobster, now in her early seventies – and handed her back the phone. "It was good to see you again, Angela."

"It was my pleasure, Signor Reborn," she replied, bowing. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"No, thank you. Actually," the hitman paused. "There is one thing. You might want to keep the penthouse free in the near future."

The practised, polite expression and accompanying wrinkles did not hinder the small smile on the lady's face. "I shall make a note of it."

Reborn nodded, tipping his fedora to her and saying his goodbyes before strolling outside of the hotel. He then casually put his hands in his pockets, turned around the street corner, and started people-watching with an automatic, detached air.

A group of schoolkids walked past him, surrounded by raucous laughter. His eyes narrowed. _Green __uniforms, __distinct __insignia__ – __Kokuyo __students, __with __no __intention __of __attending __school __for __the __day.__Traffic __camera __at __T-section __swivelling __to __follow __them __– __possibly __Disciplinary __Committee __surveillance?__At __least __three __of __five __kids __are __armed__ – __one __has __an __impressive __tattoo, __possibly __yakuza? __Local __gangs, __rendezvous __imminent __if __they __make __trouble __on __enemy __turf._

Reborn then threw a casual glance to his left. _Man __in __parka __with __hunched __shoulders __favouring __right __arm__ – __recently __healed __fracture. __Switchblade __located __under __belt, __stance __suggests __basic __karate __training.__To __the __man__'__s __right, __salaryman __in __a __hurry __clutching __briefcase __to __chest__ – __faint __odour __of __ink __present, __possibly __counterfeiting? __A __team __then__ – __salaryman __having __doubts, __will __abandon __operation __sometime __within __the __week._

Information flitted through Reborn's brain and was dealt with quickly and efficiently – people, their actions and intentions, all examined, vital knowledge catalogued and extraneous details deleted without a second thought.

Something made him pause, and turn into the street that would lead him to the Sawada residence. _Being __tailed__ – __person __either __abysmal __at __hiding __or __lulling __me __into __false __sense __of __security. __Young, __female, __unlikely __to __have __stealth __training__…__oh. __Oh, __I __see._Reborn sighed. He had another admirer, it seemed. _Brick __wall __to __my __right __will __give __me __extra __height __for __confrontation._ He jumped up on it and spun around, not losing his cool for a second. "Hello."

There was a flurry of steps, and soon a brown-haired girl in a pale yellow vest and grey skirt was boldly balancing on the wall next to him. "U-um, hello! My name is Miura Haru!"

_Miura Haru. Born May 3, blood type B. Father a mathematics lecturer at university, mother stays at home. No siblings. Attends one of the toughest elite schools in the area, member of the school rhythmic gymnastics team. Enjoys cake, tankobon and cosplay. Possible contact with Tsuna? _

"I know you," Reborn replied. "You live in that house, right?" He pointed towards the Miura residence.

"You know about me!" she squealed. "Will you be my friend?"

This was not what one would say to a stranger who knows where you live. It was kind of nostalgic.# But this was not a time for reminiscing. "Sure, I'll be your friend," he said.

"Woo!" she cheered, doing a little flip off the wall. Reborn involuntarily assessed her movements. The gymnastic training must have aided her overall endurance and flexibility. With some practice and training, who knows? (If Lambo didn't make an adequate Lightning Guardian in the future, there would be options available, he supposed).

"This might be a little sudden but…can you hug me, like this?" Haru demonstrated this with an expression of utmost earnestness, coupled by a rather eerie gleam in her eye.

_Well, __I __do __have __a __habit __of __attracting __the __dangerous __ones, __don__'__t __I?_ Still, Reborn was miffed. The downfall of being in this form – his sheer irresistibility was expected, but at times wearisome. "Don't touch me so easily. I _am_ a hitman, you know."

"Hahi? A hitman? Is that a game you're playing with your older brother?" the girl asked, aghast.

Reborn sighed. If only Tsuna were here. It would have been hilarious to see if Miura Haru would slap him for being a bad example. _Hmmm__…__should __I __put __my __student __up __to __this __situation, __knowing __full __well __that __my __actions __could __lead __to __all __sorts __of __misunderstandings __and __entertainment?_

He smirked at the very thought. "I'm also a mafia tutor. Tsuna is my student, and I'm going to teach him how to fight, extort and lead like a pro."

She gasped. "That Sawada-kun's teaching you that kind of stuff? And he's letting you walk around on your own without supervision? Ooh, how horrible!" she said to herself, before turning to him sweetly. "Don't worry Reborn-chan! Haru will protect you!"

This was just too easy.

* * *

_Namimori Kindergarten _

"Lambo, we already went through this." Tsuna held out his hand. "Pass them over."

Lambo petulantly relinquished three grenades, two pistols and a small rocket launcher. "You're a big meanie," he complained. "What if Lambo-san _needs_ them?"

"Then you'll just have to make do with that bazooka and the five other grenades that I _know_ you still have. Don't even think to deny it," Tsuna warned. In reality, Tsuna couldn't fault Lambo's logic – after all, this was the same kindergarten from which he had almost been abducted. Potential weapons may not be appropriate for five year olds, but most five year olds shouldn't need them, not like they did.

Lambo scuffed the floor with his foot. "Whatever. Can Lambo-san go now?"

"Alright, you can go." Lambo whooped before running off to where the other kids were. "Try not to get into too much mischief!" Tsuna added, but that was easier said than done. He could already recognise two boys in the crowd that Lambo had made a beeline for as younger siblings to DC members. "I'd be lying if I said I was surprised," Tsuna mumbled, stuffing Lambo's seized weapons into the bottom of his school bag. He would have to move if he didn't want to sprint all the way to school.

Tsuna guessed he should consider himself lucky that Reborn had chosen to opt out of accompanying him because of Lambo. He walked briskly in the direction of Namimori Middle School, taking in the peaceful surroundings devoid of hitmen. It appeared to be a good start to the day as any.

"Hey you!" a voice called out from somewhere.

Tsuna paid it no mind. "Maybe I can pass by the IT stores after school," he mumbled.

"I SAID, _HEY __YOU_!"

"Hm?" Tsuna turned around in confusion, only to be confronted by a schoolgirl with a look of derision on her face and a hockey stick clutched in her right hand. His mind recalled meeting her before. "Oh!" he remembered the cake run for the Song Bakery. "It's, uh, Miura-san, am I right?"

"So you remember," Miura Haru said darkly. "Sawada-kun, I will not be fooled twice!"

"Huh?" Tsuna felt that he was missing something here.

"And to think…Reborn-chan suffered, all because of you," the girl whispered painfully, a hand clutching at her heart.

"Reborn? Suffering?" Tsuna was _clearly_ missing out on something.

"Don't play coy with me!" Miura Haru snapped. "I saw what Reborn-chan was like this morning! What the hell have you been teaching him?"

"But I haven't seen Reborn since yesterday night." Tsuna stared at her suspiciously. "Did he turn up at your house wearing a weird costume?"

Haru's mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. "Um, no–"

"Scam you out of your life savings?"

"No–"

"Attempt to buy one of your kidneys?"

"What, _no_–"

"Well, I doubt he tried to initiate you into a life of crime," Tsuna said, rubbing his temples, "but a word of advice? If your gut is telling you to flee the country, listen to it and book the plane tickets."

"Argh! How could you even suggest that Reborn-chan would do such things!" she shrieked, stamping her foot. "Babies are angels with pure hearts! Are you destroying that lovely pureness with your rotten heart?"

"If I wasn't before, I'm definitely confused now. You sure we're talking about the same person?" Tsuna said, vaguely horrified by such adjectives being used to describe Reborn of all people.

Haru just glared. "You're Reborn's big brother, right? I see you together often!"

"No way Reborn and I are siblings. The very idea is just, urgh. Incomprehensible."

"Then you're an even bigger bastard, making someone else's baby a devil!"

"I had no hand in _that_; Reborn does perfectly well being evil on his own!"

Haru brushed that aside. "Listen here; you shall not see Reborn-chan anymore! It's obvious that you're a bad influence!" She brandished her hockey stick in such a manner that suggested he was soon going to be beaten to death with it.

Tsuna wasn't pleased with how things were turning out (she seemed _normal_ when they first met, which goes to show that first impressions sucked) but it was laughable too, considering that Reborn would be more a bad influence than Tsuna could ever aspire to be. "Not that it's really any of your business," Tsuna sighed, "but if it were that easy I wouldn't be in this situation, and Reborn would be living it up in another part of the globe, _away _from me, where he belongs."

"Hah!" Haru scoffed. "Like I'd take your word for anything. Reborn-chan already told me that his job is to raise you to be a mafia boss, and that he can't be separated from you until then."

"Hiiie?" If he wasn't before, Tsuna was fuming now. _Reborn, __you __can__'__t __just __go __around __telling __random __civilians __about __my __life! __What __is _wrong _with __you! __Sacred __code __of __Omertà __my__ ass!_

Haru brought him back to the present when she darted forward, forcing Tsuna to elude her hand as it veered towards his face. The would-be-slap missed. "You – you delinquent! You've even been restricting Reborn-chan's freedom!"

He took another few steps back as she swung around the hockey stick like an unstable fencer. Haru was graceful in her movements, but ruthless, highly trained killer she wasn't. Tsuna tried to reason with her. "Uh, hey, this discussion is great and all, but maybe now's not the best time for it?"

"There is always time for justice!"

"Yeah, that's great. Can you resume your efforts to turn me into a pile of mush later then? I'm only saying this because I attend Namimori Middle School," he spelled out slowly for her, "where tardiness is frowned upon and latecomers run the risk of getting thrown out of second story windows. I can't afford to argue with you now."

"You sound like you're trying to throw me off."

"Whatever gave you that impression?" Tsuna said dryly. "Look, I don't know what scheme Reborn cooked up to amuse himself, and at the moment I don't really care – just leave me alone. And keep in mind that whatever you do will probably make no difference whatsoever. Reborn does whatever the hell he wants, and chances are good that he'll continue to do so."

His answer at least had thrown her off, if Haru looking at him strangely was any indication. Her weapon held loosely at her side, and Tsuna decided that now was as good a time as any, so he started running away from her.

Haru snapped out of it. "Hahi? I'm not finished with you, get back here and face me like a man!"

"I'm not listening!" Tsuna called out behind him while dashing away. "Why so interested in Reborn anyway? Don't tell me she's pulling a Bianchi," he said, pulling a face.

* * *

One fine morning Yamamoto had been innocently walking to school when he was passed by an irate teenage girl wielding a hockey stick. He had to admit that it sort of ruined the usual routine, but things had been getting more interesting lately, so he was hardly going to complain about anything breaking the monotony of daily life.

"Excuse me," the girl said stiffly, "but have you seen a boy run past you? Short guy, brown hair, Namimori Middle uniform?"

"Nope, sorry," Yamamoto said apologetically.

"Damn," she cursed, brown hair bobbing up and down to her movements, before she quickly continued onwards, yelling all the while. "You can run all you want but don't think that you can hide from me! I_ know __where __you __live_!"

Strange. The hockey teams around town practiced after school…

It was probably even stranger that Yamamoto's first thought was about club practice times rather than why angry schoolgirls were wandering around looking to club people. Were their hockey members usually this violent?

He watched her go, making sure that she was out of sight before he turned to the small house on his right. "Yo, Tsuna! Good morning!" he called out (quietly, mind).

It took about a minute before he got a reply. "Good morning Yamamoto-san. Though I truly don't see what's so good about _this_ particular morning. To be honest, it's been pretty crappy." Tsuna came into view while he peered cautiously over the roof of the house. "Thanks, by the way. She's gone, right?"

"Looks like it. You'd better come down before Gokudera turns up and asks what you're doing up there," Yamamoto pointed out. Both boys then flinched as something loud detonated a few streets away. "Too late," Yamamoto laughed, "he should be here soon."

Tsuna quickly scrambled down to the ground. "I guess I'm overdoing it, given that it's not like she could actually kill me. I hope Gokudera didn't do anything troublesome," he fretted.

"What was that all about anyway?" Yamamoto asked, positioning his baseball bat more comfortably on his shoulder.

"Only the first death threat of the day," Tsuna explained, without really explaining anything at all.

"I see." _Actually, __I __don__'__t._ "So, was she playing the mafia game too then?"

"I certainly hope not." Tsuna craned his neck in the direction of the blast. "Were you both heading for school?"

"Well, we were planning to walk to school together, but you weren't around at your place this morning. We thought you might have left before us. Then Gokudera swore that he saw someone that looked like you darting around on the rooftops of all things, so he ran up ahead."

Yamamoto's cheery explanation tapered off as Gokudera appeared on the scene. The bomber brightened as his eyes fell on his boss. "Juudaime, good morning! Eh, the baseball idiot found you first?" he said in disbelief. "How the hell did you know where the Juudaime was before me?"

Yamamoto just smiled. "I could tell!"

Gokudera looked sceptical. "You could tell?"

"Mhm." Yamamoto's smile didn't falter. "Technically, I wasn't lying when I said nobody passed me. Did you see the culprit?"

"Yeah, just some rotten schoolgirl. I scared her off; she wasn't a huge threat or anything." Gokudera's eyes were unusually keen as he stared at Yamamoto. "Are you _sure_ that you're not some sort of UMA in disguise?"

"Hah, what? A UMA? What's that?"

Gokudera ignored him in favour of sulking. "My underboss intuition failed me!" He quickly turned to Tsuna and clutched at his arm. "I was held up today, Juudaime! I will correct myself and come to your house a full _three __hours __earlier_ to ensure you don't have to walk to school unprotected! Here, let me carry your bag!"

"Don't worry! I can…carry it," Tsuna finished lamely. Gokudera had already seized his bag.

The bomber's zeal was replaced by confusion, as he stared down at the bag and weighed it in his arms experimentally. "Huh, it feels heavier than usual. What's in here?"

Tsuna remembered the illegal goods. "…Books."

"No, there's more than that. Besides your textbooks, lunch and pencil case, there appears to be weapons in here. Juudaime, you're always so prepared! That's one of the many reasons why I respect you!"

Tsuna was left feeling a bit awkward.

"Now let's see…" Gokudera closed his eyes, forehead furrowed. "A small rocket launcher…the spherical shapes are grenades, possibly Rheinmetall, and I can distinguish two pistols…huh. One of them is definitely a Baby Eagle – they used to be known as the Jericho 941 – and I _think_ the other is an FN Five Seven, though that's a little unusual to have since its sales have been restricted to military and law enforcement personnel by the manufacturing company…" Gokudera noticed Tsuna and Yamamoto staring at him. "What? You pick up a few things when you grow up surrounded by assassins and mafia hitmen."

"Wow," was the first thing that popped out of Yamamoto's mouth.

Tsuna understood the sentiment. "Your explanation was a lot more thorough than I thought it would be," he said. "I actually took those off Lambo before he went to kindergarten. I was planning to store them with the DC for the day so I won't get busted for carrying around illegal firearms. You can really get all that without even looking in the bag?"

"Heh," Gokudera grinned. "Trust me Juudaime; I know this stuff like the back of my hand."

"I wonder about you two sometime." Yamamoto slung his arms around both their shoulders. "Maybe you two can talk about your toys later? It's just I can't afford to be late and get detention, there's baseball practice after school."

"Toys? Baseball freak, these weapons are not to be taken lightly! You really should know this stuff, it's useful!" Gokudera said as the three of them broke out into a run.

"I guess I'm not that into guns and gadgets – if I ever took anything up I always assumed it would be a sword like my old man!"

"Well, if you do, you'd better be damn good; otherwise you'll stand the chance of going by the philosophy of 'those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't'. What do you think, Juudaime?"

"I don't know. Guns aren't really my area. I'm more of a knives or blunt instrument type of person."

"T-there's nothing wrong with that, Juudaime! Vongola Terzo was _great_ with knives!"

In the meantime, one determined schoolgirl brushed dirt and random bits of explosive material off her clothes as she tottered off to Midori Middle school campus. Haru Miura stared up at the sky, clenched her fists, and swore vengeance. "Don't worry Reborn-chan, Haru will set you free! I'll get you Sawada Tsunayoshi – and that bomber delinquent too!"

* * *

_Outdoor Takoyaki Vendor  
__Namimori Riverside_

Haru did not have long to wait.

"So you're my comrade for wanting to rescue Reborn-chan, onee-san!" the schoolgirl said cheerfully. Her little investigation into Reborn's home life somehow ended up with her commiserating with another woman by the name of Bianchi. It was nice having allies in her quest against that despicable Sawada. "Rebocchi is such a cutie, isn't he?" she sighed.

"Yes, he's wonderful," Bianchi said.

"How could he involve Reborn-san in a hitman game like that? Honestly!"

"You're absolutely right," the lady said, flicking a lock of hair over her shoulder. "I don't think Tsunayoshi quite understands the full gravity of the situation. After all, Reborn is the best in a very competitive field. Frankly, his time is being wasted in this miserable town." She sniffed. "Ah, I can never forget about those thrilling assassination days…"

"Huh?" Haru stopped chewing her takoyaki. Bianchi had actually started _tearing_ up into her whisky. "Onee-san?" Haru asked tentatively. She almost jumped out of her chair as Bianchi put down her drink with a loud bang.

"Can you believe it?" the older woman seethed, sorrow quickly turning to anger. "First it was that _Cavallone_ boy, and now he's been saddled with another student to babysit 24/7! I can't even kill him off if I wanted to! Why must there be so many obstacles in the way of love? What did I do to deserve this? Besides killing off loads of people, and having somewhat questionable morals, and maybe destabilising the Italian Government…"

Something told Haru that she was becoming acquainted with some very dangerous people. "Oh please, don't tell me he _wasn__'__t_ joking…" she whispered, unsettled.

Unfortunately this thought kept her up at night, and what little sleep she had was filled with dreams of gunfights, explosions and yellow jumpsuits. By morning Haru was tired and grumpy, but she had also decided on a course of action, so she dragged herself to the bridge and staked it out until she saw the telltale figure that was her prey.

"Good morning," she groaned, tottering forward. "Remember me? I'm Haru, who couldn't sleep last night because everything's been messed up, my thoughts included. It's all your fault."

Sawada Tsunayoshi gaped at the figure she presented. "Oh no. Is this normal for you? You're going to get heatstroke with that kendo armour in this weather."

"Don't you mock me!" Haru shifted the motorcycle helmet in her left arm, and held her weapon of choice in front of her. "Listen, I've been thinking about this whole thing."

"You have, have you?"

"If Reborn-chan is a real hitman, then I think you, as a bonafide mafia-boss-to-be, would be very strong." She put the motorcycle helmet on purposefully. "If you're strong, then no matter how much foolishness you're involved in, I'll believe Reborn-chan, and I won't interfere, and I'll even stop complaining. So please have a match with me!"

Tsunayoshi stared at her oddly. "You're challenging me to a duel?"

"Basically, yes."

"…Okay. Sadly not a first for me."

Haru's hands tightened as she mentally prepared herself for battle.

"I do get what you're saying," Tsuna continued, "though you're very upfront in proclaiming your challenge. You _do_ realise that doing that in situations with actual mafia men can lead to other situations that will get you shot, right?"

Haru screamed a war cry and ran forward with her hockey stick held aloft.

"Right. Just so we're clear."

A feint to the left from Tsuna, and Haru bit back a curse when the hockey stick only hit asphalt rather than flesh. She swiped at him again, and again, but he evaded them all with swift movements. "Ergh, I can't hit you!" Haru panted.

"The armour's not helping," Tsuna said in resignment. "Even with the added protection, it's only slowing you down, and the heat will get to you sooner or later." In fact, the only upside was that besides the protection it offered, Haru's outfit had the bonus of rendering her anonymous – Tsuna did not have that luxury. It was a good thing that there weren't any onlookers around to see the events on the bridge.

Haru brought up her weapon again and started swinging it around crazily in her efforts to hit him. "I don't know what to think – Ayako-sempai said you were – a nice guy," she said through gritted teeth. "How does one – end up becoming – a mafia boss anyway? For all – I know, you probably – kick puppies in your spare time – and steal candy from small children." _There!_ She saw an opening, and her hockey stick swung through the air, making a beeline for Tsuna.

_Clang! _

The hockey stick was brought to a halt as it met with an obstacle in its path. Tsuna pushed against it, making Haru take a few steps back from the force. Sweat dripped down her forehead from beneath her visor. "You…"

Tsuna brandished the metal crowbar in front of him. "It's as I thought. There is no reasoning with you. If you want to fight me so badly, then fine. Do so. Well?" he said, as she just stood there indecisively. "It's not like I wasn't expecting you to pull something, so go on and try to hit me again!

Haru squared her shoulders and held the hockey stick before her. "Are you taking me seriously now?" she called, coming at him.

"I never take anything seriously," Tsuna said, meeting her blow with a parry of his own. "How else would you expect me to get through life?"

Haru continued to trade blows with Tsuna at a furious pace. "What brought about such an outlook?"

Tsuna bent back, the hockey stick narrowly missing his nose. "Just have a look at what we're doing now," he said. "I'm up against a Japanese schoolgirl wearing kendo armour and a motorcycle helmet trying to bash me up on a bridge with a hockey stick, and I'm defending myself with a crowbar while trading blows and discussing the philosophy of my life. We are fighting over something stupid that my chibi hitman tutor orchestrated for kicks. I can't even take _myself_ seriously here!"

Haru had never been one to keep her opinions back, and even when a small part of her was sort of laughing at this going 'Good one, Sawada!' she still voiced her dissent. "Sure, it's bizarre, but as a baby-"

With an almighty blow, the crowbar sent the hockey stick flying out of Haru's grasp and over the bridge railing. "Reborn, a baby?" Shadows fell across Tsuna's irritated face. "He's like a hundred years old, for crying out loud!"

"No way!" Haru yelled. "You're a liar!"

"You're just saying that because you don't know the rumours, you – _shotacon_!"

While the entire charade turned from attacking blows to insults and wild gestures, Gokudera had the remarkable timing to walk past the bridge. His eyes immediately spotted his boss, along with the bulky figure the boy was arguing with.

"Juudaime?" he said aloud, cigarette falling forgotten from his lips. Was…was his boss in a yelling match with someone? Perhaps there had been another attempt on his life? The armoured figure didn't look like the usual assassin fare, and kendo armour wasn't exactly Kevlar…but then again disposable hitmen weren't known for being classy when out killing people.

Gokudera snapped out of bewilderment when the armour lifted up a hand in a vaguely derogatory manner towards Tsuna. "Did you just – oh, now you've done it!" Gokudera drew out his dynamite. "How _dare_ you!"

The next thing Haru experienced was a loud bang that left her eardrums rattling, and heavy plumes of black smoke that impaired her vision. Essentially left ineffective, the bomb blast (and confusion that came with it) threw Haru off balance, and her impact with the river made quite the splash.

Haru struggled through the cold water. She'd lost her helmet somewhere on the bridge, but the armour was dragging her down. _God, __the __armour__'__s __heavy__…__and __I __can__'__t __swim __in __it. __This __sucks. __I __should __have __chosen __a __better __place __as __a __battleground. __What __were __you __thinking, __Haru? __Challenging __mafia __types __like __that__…__he__'__s __probably __laughing __at __you __right __now. _Her head went under twice, and then she felt something seize her arm and force her head back up to the surface. She gasped and spluttered as her lungs took in air, all the while being tugged towards the shore.

It was Tsuna. He had plainly jumped in after her.

* * *

"Thanks very much," Miura Haru mumbled.

"Geez, what were you thinking? If you pull a stunt like that again and something happens to the Juudaime, I'll make sure you won't exist in this world," Gokudera said grumpily.

"I'll keep that in mind," Haru said from underneath the towel she had draped over her head. Her enthusiasm seemed to have subsided – for now.

"...Bomber delinquent..."

"What did you just say?"

Or perhaps not.

While this was happening, Tsuna turned to the real culprit behind everything, whose manifestation was unwelcome but expected. Yelling with Haru had gotten rid of more bottled-up stress, and he was feeling a lot calmer than how he could have been as he confronted Reborn. "See? Take this as an example as why you shouldn't share my life with the rest of the population. Do you want me to die so badly? You're a mobster, you could have lied."

"Now where's the fun in that? People find out secrets for a number of reasons. You should be able to face these situations when they come at you," Reborn said. He had seen most of the exchange on the bridge from a hang glider up above. ^

"Haru thinks I'm the devil spawn. Or possibly just a freak."

"You're in the mafia. You'll get used to it."

"Forget taking the restraining order on her, I should take it on you." The boss candidate shook his head, and a frown appeared on his face. "Hold that thought for a minute – I just remembered something." With that, Tsuna went to the water's edge and dived right back in.

"Juudaime?" Gokudera yelped.

"Tsuna-san?" Haru peered out from under her towel.

The boy soon resurfaced, an object clutched tightly in his hand. He swum back to shore, got back up on the bank and, dripping water everywhere, Tsuna walked up to Haru held out the hockey stick as if it were a sacred olive branch. "If I return this to you, will you promise not to hit me with it?"

Haru blinked. "Yes."

"Oh good," Tsuna sighed. "I get enough of this crap from the assassins, and I really don't want to have to deal with you dishing out your idea of justice. Things like Child Helpline exist for a reason."

Gokudera quickly dumped another towel on Tsuna's head. "Juudaime, you'll catch a cold!" he fussed. "Maybe we should get you back to your house."

"It's okay, I'm fine," the smaller boy dried his hair. Regardless, Gokudera picked up Tsuna's crowbar and started ushering his boss in the direction of home.

Haru unsteadily got to her feet. "Oi, Juudaime!" she called out, hastily brushing the wet hair from her face.

"Eh?" Tsuna turned around even as he winced at the title. One really shouldn't respond to the title of Juudaime – it gave people ideas. (Even with Gokudera's refusal to use his real name, the thought had come a bit too late, and he could only wonder about how many wrong impressions could be made when one was referred to as the Tenth).

Form of address aside, Haru was now smiling at him pleasantly, much like when they'd first come across one another. "It was very wonderful of you to save me."

"Uh, no problem," Tsuna said. "Anyone would have done the same."

"That's not the point. M-my heart is pounding!" she continued.

"Oh, that's probably from the adrenaline rush. You look a bit flushed – go home, lie down for a bit, and you'll be fine."

Reborn kicked him in the shin. "Stupid Tsuna. You just put your life on the line to save a girl from drowning. Her heart is not just pounding from the adrenaline, take my word for it."

Tsuna looked down at his tutor. "She's not going into shock, is she?"

"You're an idiot."

Haru was indeed quite red in the face. "What I meant to say…" She tried again, because she wasn't by nature a shy girl. "Haru thinks that she may have fallen for Tsuna-san!"

"Oh? Oh. Hiiie?"

Gokudera shared his sentiment. "What is with you and your inconsistency, woman? First you try to kill the Juudaime, and now you're professing your _love_?"

(Tsuna decided to not call Gokudera out on that one. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black). He went with "B-but I thought you liked Reborn!" instead.

Haru's arms were wrapped around herself. "But I feel like being hugged by you, Juu-dai-me," she said slowly, before launching forward with her arms wide open, hockey stick lying forgotten on the ground this time.

"No, wait! Stay back! You're delusional! The near-death experience has addled your senses!"

"Just because you're a mafia boss doesn't mean you're necessarily an asshole! I think Ayako-sempai was right, you _are_ a nice guy after all!"

"…At least Tsuna's got a possible mafia mistress out of this entire thing," the hitman reasoned while watching the two run around in the sun (Tsuna looking rather weirded out by the entire thing).

"I don't approve!" Gokudera screamed after them. "You get away from the Juudaime's personal space, witch!"

Reborn sighed. Ah, to be young and foolish.

* * *

_The Tarantino Estate, Southern Italy_

Tsuna's plight had been kept under wraps for some time from the general mafia populace, in part because it hadn't registered as any more than faint whispers for the time being, and because most Families had more pressing matters to worry about than what some kid in Japan was doing with his life.

For now, anyway.

The Beccio, for example, had been planning this mission for months. Members kept together in tight-knit units as they surrounded the property, many of them spreading out into the surrounding vineyards to conceal their presence.

Squadrone Colombo was currently making their way deeper into treacherous territory. At one point, the four-man unit were greeted by a well-worn sign placed smack-bang among the lattices.

WARNING: PRIVATE PROPERTY.  
TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT.  
SURVIVORS WILL BE SHOT AGAIN.

"I take it they don't entertain guests here very often," one of them, Fierro, said. They moved forward once more, but came across another sign soon afterwards.

UNWANTED GUESTS MAY ALSO BE CLUBBED WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE.

There were some faint stains marring the wood that was certainly not from grapes. Like the first notice, it went ignored by Squadrone Colombo. The property was quiet around them, though there was a kind of expectant stillness in the air. The greenery that was their cover swayed gently, as if caught in an invisible breeze.

It was never really a good idea to butt heads with the Acerbi – however, the botched Quattrocchi job months before meant some very risky moves had to be done, for the good of the Famiglia.

It didn't mean they had to like it.

"Bloody Acerbi," Alonzo said, swatting at a wayward vine.

SERIOUSLY. GET THE FUCK OFF MY LAWN.

Fierro's hands clenched at the third sign. "If I didn't already know that we'd disabled the cameras, I'd think that he could still see us!" he hissed.

"We aren't the first to come here," the tall man known as Nespola replied. "He could be anticipating our every move."

"Shit. This was a bad idea from the start." Alonzo shifted uncomfortably and scowled. "You hear about the Traversini scouts? He stuck their severed heads up on _pikes_."

It was not the best start to a mission.

A scream punctured the air. Their heads shot up, and the scream cut off as suddenly as it started. It left them all shaken, edgy. Ugo swore under his breath. Something had gone wrong. Something must have been overlooked.

A faint rippling motion passed through the greenery they were surrounded by. Leaves twitched. Pebbles shifted. It was like the Beccio had roused something. "Run," Ugo said, and they immediately broke out into a sprint, secrecy be damned. The vegetation around them snapped to attention, and soon vines were reaching out with thin tendrils. All around them, they could start to hear the curses and shouts of their comrades, as the very plants around them started to attack.

"They say – Tarantino's missus – is fond of – dangerous things," Nespola panted, pistol-whipping the creeping plants that had launched themselves at his face. "But fucking homicidal plants?"

"Look at who she's married to," Alonzo spat. He suddenly yelped as thick, ropy vines snagged his ankles, before pulling him abruptly off his feet.

"Alonzo!" Fierro cried, but the unlucky mobster had already been dragged off into the underbrush, fingers scraping against the soil in a fruitless attempt to escape. More foliage dived at them, and the three men did the best they could and made for the villa, dodging a variety of vines, flowers and poison ivy that snapped at their heels.

Other squadrons struggled, shooting at the attacking plants. Some of the more level-headed ones were trying to set the attacking plants on fire, but it wasn't as effective as they had hoped, given that any burning greenery would then latch onto the nearest person.

The Beccio weren't in possession of any flames, so running around while on fire was a new and unpleasant experience.

They had originally chosen a time to strike when only a handful of inner Acerbi members would be present, believing it to be a window of opportunity. They were to hit hard and fast, and have the element of surprise on their side. But with the fracas going on, the inhabitants of the house would have had to be very, very deaf to be unaware of their company.

The front door to the villa opened, and a large figure filled the frame – a man dragging a hefty metal weapon behind him. The sound of the war hammer trailing along the gravel could have set anyone's teeth on edge.

Dante Tarantino observed his property, hand idly resting on his chin. His attention was captured by a score of Beccio men who emerged from the vineyard covered in scratches, but with plenty of fighting spirit in them and a variety of weapons.

Enemy forces assailing your quarters, possibly wishing to kill you? The hint of an unpleasant smile crossed Dante's face as he brought up the war hammer. It was just another day at the office.

With that in mind, the outcome was not that suprising. Twenty minutes into the initial invasion and more than half of the Beccio forces were already out of commission in one form or another.

"I FIND YOUR INCOMPETENCE AND GENERAL STUPIDITY AMUSING!"

Dante on the other hand was enjoying himself. There was nothing like busting a few skulls to relieve work-related stress.

While violence was rampant in the fields, Fierro, Nespola and Ugo, through fear-driven necessity, had gotten through the back entrance of the villa, shoving the door closed behind them. Some of the plants tried to follow, and left severed rose stems and wilted leaves on the floor as they were crushed.

The three of them stood there for a moment in that empty hallway, backs pressed up against the door, hearts hammering. Still reeling from Alonzo's fate and the uncertainty of their own, they focused on the task at hand and took a closer look at their surroundings. Roman-style architecture surrounded them, along with rich wall hangings. The wooden floorboards were covered with plush carpets that muffled their footfalls.

The Tarantino Estate comprised of Dante's personal villa, surrounded by fertile lands which produced some really great wine. The picturesque scene of Italian beauty was perhaps marred by the gunshots peppering the air from outside.

"Okay," Nespola said. "What is our goal?"

"Get a hold of the Lombardi documents," Fierro said. "We need those movements, and the Acerbi took them from the Traversini a few days back, so they've got to be stashed here somewhere."

"Take advantage of any opportunity to gather intelligence and strike against the Acerbi," Ugo said.

"Ensure that this mission is not a complete failure," Nespola finished. They weren't too familiar with the layout of the sprawling villa, but what little information they had and guesswork would have to suffice. "Okay. We have to cover more ground, so splitting up it is. As much as I'd like the safety of numbers, we don't have a lot of time and only the three of us have managed to breach the building so far." Each man chose a different hallway, opened a door, and cautiously scouted out their area with weapons on hand.

- Door Number One -

Fierro found the small archive room through sheer dumb luck. It was down a narrow flight of stairs, squished between a sitting room and a walk-in wardrobe. It wasn't much, just a few filing cabinets, an old computer and printer. No doubt the main archives room in the heart of Acerbi territory was by far more extensive, but any piece of information could be useful. He grasped the handle of the nearest filing cabinet and drew it open, hands flicking through row after row of folders. He smirked when he came across recognisable cream-coloured sheaf of papers. The Lombardi documents, perfect.

Most of the other papers were encoded, slang or otherwise, while others were completely illegible. His fingers hovered over an unremarkable piece of paper lodged in a file marked **Y** – among the scattered words were the recurring symbols of _lupo_, rainbow, and the letter V. For a time, Fierro had worked among Beccio intel, and though these were the only things he recognised, it was enough to make him stuff it into his jacket with the Lombardi documents for further observation.

After a pause, he hitched his gun into his belt and then started to empty every single filing cabinet he could get his hands on. Papers and documents were piled into a heap on the concrete floor. The Mafia didn't normally have great records, simply because keeping incriminating information lying around was tantamount to serving yourself up on a platter. Writing anything down in this business could lead to disaster in the future.

Fierro was aware of the fact that it would be impossible to bring all the documents with him, so the next best thing he could think of was destroying their records. If the papers he carried on him didn't hold anything of importance to the Beccio, they could always find other uses for them. It would prove troublesome for the Acerbi if their papers somehow made their way into the hands of a prosecutor, Fierro thought as he withdrew a box of matches from a pocket.

The Beccio underling never got the chance to light it. A metal stick rapped his knuckles sharply, before smashing against the side of his face. Fierro was flung against the concrete wall, and soon found a golf club pressed against his windpipe. He gazed up at a tall, bespectacled man and the words caught in Fierro's throat. To be caught without a weapon at this instant! "Y-you're…"

"_Bastardo_." Walter smashed the golf club down on Fierro's head, feeling very satisfied with the sharp _thwack_ it made. "Now I have to file those all over again." +

- Door Number Two -

While Fierro was having the tar beaten out of him, Ugo was walking down his respective corridor. After finding nothing of note, he was planning to head for another part of the villa when a soft voice drifted down from the end of the hall to his ears.

"…Why Mr Teddy, would you like some tea? It was imported from India, you know. Of course Sophia, I'd love a cookie, thank you for offering…"

It occurred to him that he had come across something so much better than sensitive documents. Lips widened into a smile. Jackpot. Ugo silently made his way towards the source of the noise, clutching his P90. In seconds, he was shoving the door open, gun pointing forward.

Empty. The room was deserted? But he was sure he had heard something. After lingering at the entrance, Ugo finally crossed the threshold. The room was painted in shades of lilac and sky blue, with painted butterflies scattered on ceiling, surrounded by glow-in-the-dark stars.

The place was devoid of life. He had been so confident…

The man stopped as he got to a small table set near the window. It was set out prettily, with lamingtons and an assortment of biscuits spread out on a dainty tablecloth. A worn brown bear sat on a small stool next to a doll. The entire thing looked like it had been in use only minutes ago. He slowly picked up an abandoned cup of tea. It was still warm.

On an instant, his face was _rammed_ into the table. Bits of china and food were sent flying, and the wooden structure collapsed under his weight and the sheer force behind the blow. His gun skittered to the other side of the room, and the Beccio minion was left dazedly slumped on the largest piece of the table's surface that had stayed intact.

A hand gripped him by the hair and lifted his head roughly. Small lacerations from the cups and plates peppered Ugo's face. Squinting hazily at his foe, Ugo was confronted by a pair of small dark eyes, set in a petite face. They were so, so cold.

Berenice Tarantino, seven year old daughter of Dante Tarantino, stared down at him. "You weren't invited to my tea party, _bitch_."

- Door Number Three -

Nespola was surprised to find the hallway narrowing before him to finish off at a solitary metal door. He carefully put his hand on the doorknob, then ducked as it swung open while bringing up an elbow to jab the incoming man in the gut.

His foe collapsed. The dirty overalls the guy was wearing made it apparent that this was not a made man by any stretch, but more likely domestic help or some such. Still, Nespola thought as he swiped the walkie talkie and a torch from the man's utility belt, there was a good chance that even the scant domestic help here could operate machine guns.

He went through the metal door, and after five minutes of walking the dark passageway tapered off. Soon Nespola was opening a latch and finding himself blinded by sunlight. "Shit." He was on the other side of the villa, on a curving dirt road and a garage. "What am I doing outside again?"

_Bzzzp.__ -__North-eastern __sect- _the walkie talkie crackled and he held it up, ears craning to hear what was being said on the line. He fiddled with the dials, trying to get rid of the static.

'_-oming missus-'_

At that moment, a red Mini swerved around the corner of the road and hit him with little fanfare.

Nespola crumpled in the dirt. Not a very dignified defeat.

In comparison the driver of the Mini, one Jen Tarantino, was both stately and calm. "Oh dear, I appear to have hit someone. Not one of ours, is he?"

Adelardi peered outside the window of the moving vehicle at the disappearing figure. "Definitely not one of ours, though I do recognise the man. Beccio lackey, Nespa or something like that."

"Just as I though – another invasion," Jen said, turning around a bend in the dirt road. "I did wonder who was taking pot-shots at us when we turned into the road. Sometimes I think that Dante _likes_ entertaining guests here."

"Not much to be done aside from the proper precautions –these things happen," Dante's right hand man said diplomatically.

Jen frowned. "Well, if they've buggered up my roses, I'm sticking the boot in, make no mistake." She swerved again, this time avoiding a man on fire who had emerged from the bushes to their right. "Good grief, you'd think people would be deterred by now. And I made Dante put up all those signs too."

"The enemy forces probably took it as a challenge, Signora."

"Figures."

Adelardi stared up at the approaching villa. "_Caro __Dio_!" he exclaimed, as a huge green mass emerged in the distance, followed by screams at the sight of a red gaping maw. "Have the begonias mutated?"

"Oh, don't worry," Jen said, "that would be the Giant Venus Flytraps. You know, I was worried they wouldn't take to the climate here, but they appear to be flourishing wonderfully!" She looked through the window with interest. "Ah, I see they've been trying to set the Flytraps aflame. Bit useless really, they tolerate fire quite well…"

It was at times like these that Adelardi was made acutely aware of just how suitable the match between the Boss and Signora was.

- End Result of Squadrone Colombo KO -

After some time Dante had moved into the house, and was currently laughing at the bedraggled remnants of the enemy force when a small figure collided with his own.

Berenice looked up at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. "Papa," she said, hiccupping, "some bastard pissed me off and I chucked him off the balcony but I misjudged my strength again and he landed in Mama's rose garden and it's the third time I've accidentally done it and when she finds out _I__am__so__fucked_!"

"Slow down. And mind your language," Dante said. This was what happened when your impressionable daughter grew up surrounded by mobsters who swore in every second sentence.

"I am in so much trouble!" Berenice amended her words with a wail. "When Mama gets home…!"

Dante faltered only for a second, before reaching out a hand and caressed her head. "Shit happens. She'll understand you didn't mean it," he said gruffly.

The Beccio members present were dumbfounded. It was the first time they'd _personally_ seen the Acerbi Boss show any degree of gentleness and affection towards another human being.

"You can explain to her when she gets back," Dante continued. "Now, have you been practicing your eye gouges?"

Berenice rubbed at her eyes and puffed up indignantly. "Of course I have."

Dante sat back on a nearby armchair and pointed to the Beccio men before him. "Training exercise," he said. "Maiming only, extra points for creativity."

His daughter sniffled before considering them. "I dunno. They're all tired out, hardly a challenge."

"You know what your mother says about me getting you getting involved in this."

"…That we should spend more time together without unchecked violence entering into the equation?"

"Yes, that. So it's going to be practice in a controlled environment first."

"Oh, alright," Berenice said, pushing up her sleeves.

It should be said that by the age of four, Berenice had been foiling her own assassination attempts for future preparation, and genetics from her father alone left her with the ability to bench-press more than three times her own weight. It went unspoken that Dante the family man was equally as terrifying as Dante _the_ Family man.

Once Dante declared Berenice's handiwork acceptable, all captured Beccio forces were ushered away (with the last enemy having to be fished out of the rose gardens). "See? And _that_ is how violence solves everything. Any questions?"

Berenice kissed him fondly on the cheek. "Papa, you always know how to make me feel better."

Walter coughed pointedly from where he was standing to one side. "Much as I hate to break this truly touching father-daughter moment…"

"In a minute," Dante said, before beckoning to the group of Acerbi men who had finished rounding up all the invaders. "You. You all were in the north, right?" he asked. "Some guys evaded you and breached the villa's boundaries first. You scumbags have just earned yourselves tea party duty. Next time it'll be losing your left ears."

"Aw shit," was the collective response. Berenice just smiled and latched onto the nearest one, telling him that pink was _so_ his colour.

Punishment successfully allocated, the Acerbi Boss relinquished his men to his daughter's preteen clutches and turned back to Walter. "Okay, make it quick," he grunted. "I have to notify Jen that I've been meaning to redecorate."

"Duly noted," his wife said, materialising in the foyer with a grocery-laden Adelardi in tow. "Just tell me when it's time to pick out the paint."

Walter sighed inwardly. Why did all the interruptions crop up when there was paperwork to deal with?

"Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Ever since we met in the Northern Territory," Jen said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to check up on Berenice. Did anyone feed the python while I was out?"

Walter, very carefully, did _not_ roll his eyes as the Acerbi Boss observed the caved-in ceiling with interest.

"Dante," Jen said disapprovingly, "you _know_ Paul gets terrible indigestion from eating your enemies." Her eyes softened anyway. "I'll wait a bit before I get him to regurgitate the man back up," she said, kissing her husband. "Better let you boys get back to business."

She headed off, and Adelardi went to follow her, but not before turning to his boss. "Five snipers at different points after we turned off the highway," he said. "They were taken care of, but there's one trussed up with Matko. We'll be able to ask the guy a few questions before sending him back with a message to the Beccio."

"You left him alive?" Walter said.

Adelardi's face was inscrutable. "He didn't aim at Signora."

"At least _some_ of the Beccio still uphold the proper traditions," Dante muttered.

It had often been standard practice to leave the lady and kids out of the picture when dealing with mafia matters. A great many still stuck by this, but there were always those scumbags (usually new generation, lots of money and little respect, rarely traditionalists) who would take a cheap shot wherever they could.

Beccio were generally the traditional types, but it was rumoured that they were going into new management, and this entire ploy smelled of desperation. No doubt some enterprising upstart was weaselling his way into the top job, and trying to cement his reputation – unfortunately, he was doing this by fucking around with the wrong Famiglia. Dante made a mental note to kill off this new Beccio guy before his cockiness forced Dante to go on a killing spree.

Walter handed over the report after Adelardi left for the kitchens. "It's as you thought, they were after the Lombardi documents. Only problem is, they came across something else." The Head of Administration pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and gingerly handed it to his boss. "You didn't get the chance to see this after we received it last night. Just be glad the Beccio didn't make off with it. Though I suppose even they'll find out about its contents sooner or later. Word travels."

The hulking man stared down suspiciously at the paper. "Sensitive, is it? Let's see…Cavallone Famiglia, heh, wonder if they got that Dino boy to man up…"

Walter waited. His anticipation came armed with earplugs for good reason.

Dante's eyes narrowed as his eyes travelled further downwards on the paper. "Volkov?" His eyes widened. "Coyote fucking Nougat? Vongola Nono? REBORN?"

Yep, there it was.

The Tarantino villa shook with Dante's roar of "WALTER, GET ME THE _FUCKING_ PHONE!"

* * *

* - This is why he'd taken to sneaking in computer manuals, Japanese folktales and manga to class. It was either that or taking up knitting at the back of the classroom.

# - Bianchi had a habit of doing something similar when she had been younger and Reborn was in the area, offering him cookies and such. He'd accepted the food, if only so he could use them to contaminate the meals of eminent political figures (for a bit of a laugh).

^ - Though the buffering winds had made it a little difficult to hear the entire conversation, like that bit in the end about a hundred years and shotacons, whatever _that_ was supposed to mean.

+ - It went without saying that the administration of any organisation, particularly those like the mafia, should not be treated with disrespect. You never knew what 'paper pushers' would push onto those who'd stirred their anger.

* * *

Background Notes:

Jinbocho is said to be known for used bookstores and publishing companies, along with curio and antique shops.

Reborn uses the CZ 75 pistol, which is understandable given it's got a pretty good reputation and is reasonably priced for its good quality. (Very popular worldwide, the Czech Republic in particular since that was where it was created).

One of Lambo's pistols mentioned, the Baby Eagle, really was previously called the Jericho 941 back in 1990, and was based on the designs of the CZ 75. It was also built using parts from the Italian firearms company Fratelli Tanfoglio S.N.C. All of this background information, just to showcase some real guns and how Lambo pursues Reborn's example even down to weapon type.

The FN Five-seven was only introduced to civilians in 2004. Previously it had been restricted by the FN company for military and police forces, such as the U.S Secret Service.

(But don't completely take my word for it, as the Internet occasionally lies).

* * *

Anon. Reviews Corner 

**RandomFreakzoid:** After at least six months of no updating, I have come back to offer another chapter to pacify all the patient readers and update soon people. I can only hope that you'll enjoy it like the others. (Yes, Tsuna needs people to watch his back. How else could he manage for so long if there weren't at least a few people to lend him a hand every now and again?)

…Maybe the OCs just really enjoy weaving around in the fabric of the TMWY!verse, and the feeling's infectious? After all the reviewing/fangirling, rest assured that the love is mutual :)

**Hane****no****Zaia:** It just seems to take me longer and longer to update -_- But of course I'm very happy to hear that you like it and want to read more!

**Drunk:** I'm glad the humour goes down well for you. Thanks for reviewing :D

**You****know****who****I****am:** Asgfj, you're doing a lot better with your workload than me. I'm envious.

**Titans****r****Us:** I'm glad (and I can only hope that this chapter was also worth the wait). Hope this chapter explained a few things, and that you're ready for more from the likes of the Acerbi and Volkov. They're just two mafia families among many in the TMWY!verse, but they do like turning up at odd moments. I'll probably also have to expand on that particular moment in Tsuna's life. Cooking tournaments are always so amusing.

Thanks for reviewing. You've survived this far, I'm sure you can take anything this throws at you :D

**green-road:** Like I've said above, I hope this chapter was also worth the wait – it took a long time before I could buckle down and get this done. This story is essentially powered by mafia-related mayhem, so welcome to Tsuna's life, and expect more to come. At least we can enjoy his suffering when he can't. Thanks for reviewing again!

**Akuma****no****Mi:** Hey, sorry it took so long for me to reply! I'm glad you've enjoyed what I've written. From canon characters to original ones, I'm happy to bring the mafia to a more global scale with humour and craziness mixed in.

I don't mind the musings on guardian positions; it's interesting what you've come up with here. I'm afraid that I'm not deeply familiar with every single anime used, but reading through the depth of though you've put in here, I can understand your choices. I have to admit, I laughed with the idea of Bon Clay as Thunder Guardian, but my god YOU'RE RIGHT! Girono Giovanna also seems like a good Sun Guardian, as is Nekki Basara for Rain. Storm can be tricky – Luffy and Natsu both have a kind of forthright attitude and protectiveness for their nakama.

Anyway, thanks for reviewing and sharing your opinions. The discussion brings to mind a very crazy crossover, if all the animes were combined to make one Family. Who'd be the Sky that keeps them all in line? That's a rather scary/hilarious thought!

**Kelsey:** I'll be sure to have it properly explained sometime. And yes, there will eventually be a presence of the American and French mafia around. I'm glad that you like the 'what if' and crack elements woven into the story – I hope you'll continue to enjoy it, and thanks for reviewing!

**Crows****Melody:** Thanks, I'll try to! :D

**ceruleanAndGray:** Well thank you, I'm glad that you're enjoying them. I've always wanted to write, so it's strange to hear that you think I might have been born to do it – it's a nice comment. I have been playing around with the idea of one of the characters you mentioned making an earlier appearance – if so, it'll most likely be between Nono and Iemitsu, and won't their reactions be interesting to see.

I like reading and writing long chapters, so that's how the story ended up. And don't worry, your English is pretty good and I can understand it fine. Thanks for reviewing :D

**KK:** Don't worry, I do intend to continue, even if takes time to update. Allies will show up, enemies will arise from the shadows, and Tsuna will continue to deal with what he has to. Thanks for taking the time to leave a comment!

**You****'****ll****never****find****me:** Thank you, I'm really happy that you think so. I like to envision the reasoning behind Tsuna's actions and incorporating them in the plot. I don't intend to stop writing this, though I do expect road blocks like time management and work hindering my progress (and thanks for your understanding when it comes to that). It's great to hear that I've inspired you in some way – I'm the same when reading other great stories on this site, so it's not an unknown feeling.

Reviews are how I know people are enjoying/still reading this. Others might find mistakes I've made (which I try to fix), or tell me what parts they preferred or characters they liked (so I can understand little more about the expectations of the audience – I'm not writing a story just for me anymore). Of course, like you mentioned, this is all great encouragement for a writer. Every comment counts, and I hold onto them all (no matter if they're one sentence or an essay, a glowing review or one that thought a chapter was boring).

You took the time to write a constructive review outlining your thoughts; ergo, you are a good reviewer. So thank you once again, and all the best from me as well.

**hola:** Ask and you shall receive. It just takes a while sometimes :)

**RandomReader:** I'm glad to hear it, and make no mistake, I will be continuing.

**FFXFan13:** Thank you, I'm glad that you gave this story a try. Sorry if there's any confusion surrounding the OCs – I'll see if I can make things a bit clearer in future about who they are, what they do and how they relate to Tsuna. You're not alone when it comes how you view OCs, who are generally met with groans and sighs. Thanks for taking the chance to read the fic, even with the warning of their presence.

On your Gag Manga comment - yes, things are still in their early stages. Expect some smatterings of seriousness to balance out the humour, though it could be more apparent later. This may not appear to have an overarching plot just yet, so we'll see how events play out later. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to comment!

**With****my****Dying****will:** Really? Well, thanks! I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying this, and I'm sorry that this chapter was not as forthcoming as planned. I found myself with less free time than I started, which was bad for both my schedule and chapter development. Still, don't count me out of the running just yet – I'm too invested in this story to give it up :)

**Fangirl1203:** Wow, thank you! I feel very fortunate to have written something that you enjoyed (and sorry if it made you cry!) I tried to make that scene with Reborn and Tsuna emotional, because with everything that was going on, they needed a little heart-to-heart. Both of them have it pretty difficult in their lives, so I wanted to show that they were making the best of what they had. Again, thank you so much for taking the time to comment! I appreciate it.

* * *

Author's Note:

I'm becoming FAIL at this whole updating thing. In any case, the chapter = Notice That The Story Is In Ongoing Process, And Will Be Proceeding With Undetermined Results (But Not Abandoned).

While I'm typing I also want to give a quick shout out to the TYL!Lambo cosplayer at the Supanova Pop Culture Expo, as well as the KHR cast (AND a Hyper Dying Will Tsuna) at Animania Sydney – always nice to see KHR fans in Oz.

I'm also sorry if the flow of the chapter stutters at times. I'm just glad to have buckled down and updated this after sitting on the story for so long and leaving people wondering. Some things didn't make the final cut (otherwise Hana would have turned up) but now we have a proper appearance from Miura Haru, as well as an actual emergence of the Acerbi Famiglia outside of a flashback. If I had fun writing Dante, then Jen is equally entertaining (I mean, she's a mafia wife whose love of flora and fauna takes on a new and dangerous level). You might be happy to see more of the mafia underworld too as the story continues (I know I like writing it, so to those of you asking about Somalian pirates, all in good time).

As for the flashback, it's not as humour-based as others, but KHR fans should recognise a thing or two from canon. It will be continued next chapter, and you can also expect hacker social circles, the Bovino, and a few other twists in chapter 10.

As always, I am indebted to you readers and reviewers for your tireless patience, good humour and the comments you leave behind to remind authors that having A Life is all well and good, but other things should not be forgotten or discontinued. Thanks for sticking around.

~ SwordsMagician


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